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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26480611">Long Live the King</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stockholm_syndrom/pseuds/stockholm_syndrom'>stockholm_syndrom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you should see me in a crown [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Competence Kink, Elf Jaskier, Fantastical Racism, Fealty, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has a Praise Kink, Homage, M/M, Oaths &amp; Vows, Service Kink, and a, and also a, canon divergent after season 1, eskel is the long suffering secretary, jaskier: grains grains and taxes, lambert is mostly just vibing, lord jaskier, mostly bc jaskier is to busy to burn ok it’s stressful being a lord, non human jaskier, slowburn, so much talk about grains y’all and i’m not even sorry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 22:28:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>47,450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26480611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stockholm_syndrom/pseuds/stockholm_syndrom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt placed the crown on his head before kneeling at his side, and the weight of it felt heavy on Jaskier’s brow. </p><p>Jaskier’s path to becoming king, takes place five years after the fall of Cintra.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you should see me in a crown [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>493</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1340</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>An enormous thank you to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider">dragon_rider</a> for helping me! And all my friends on discord who’ve listened to me babble and helped me out, the love and encouragement helped me so much during the journey! </p><p>I've read the short stories and played TW3: Wild Hunt, and I might borrow some characters from there, but there shouldn't be any spoilers.  </p><p>Content warnings will be added to each chapter, please see end notes for CW!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was five years after the fall of Cintra, the Continent was on the cusp of war, and Jaskier was holed up at the Dorian court. He had been trying to make it to Lettenhove, or failing that, Oxenfurt or Novigrad; places he had family and friends and where he knew he would be safe. He didn’t have a single kind word to say about King Radovid, but Redania was his home, and while Jaskier considered himself a wanderer at heart, there was nothing like war to make you miss home. </p><p>But matters had developed quicker than he had expected. For a little while, it looked like Nilfgaard would be satisfied with overtaking Cintra, and since Skellige kept to itself and none of the other kings had any deep loyalty to the Cintran royals or a vague claim to the throne, no one challenged the Nilfgaardians. Life moved forward. People moved on. Except of course things weren’t that simple. Nilfgaardian soldiers were seen all over the Continent; searching, hunting, but no one knew for what. Jaskier had his suspicions, and the fear of what might have happened to his friend and his Child Surprise kept him up many nights. </p><p>The Nilfgaardian army, perhaps unsuccessful in their searches, had started to gather their soldiers. News spread that war was becoming inevitable, but no one knew where they would strike, because no one knew why they were there. Jaskier had ended up stuck in southern Temeria, far too close to former Cintra and Sodden for his comfort, with soldiers marching and everyone tense. Young men unused to war were marching for the first time, and inexperienced lords were leading them. The combination of boys wanting to prove they were men, mixed with fear and patriotism meant that fights were breaking out at the smallest provocations. And Melitele knew, Jaskier had never been good at holding his tongue. </p><p>So in the hope of reaching safety, he had left the troupe he was travelling with and used most of his remaining coin on a horse, hoping to make it to Kerack instead, where his cousin lived. While he thought spending extended time with Ferrant wasn’t exactly a joyful prospect, he was still family, and Jaskier would be safe there. </p><p>He didn’t make it to Kerack though, couldn’t round the forest of Brokillion in time, and had been forced to seek shelter at a court in Brugge. He didn’t know how long he would remain there; years if he was unlucky, but he couldn’t complain. The mayor of Brugge had closed the gates to his city, fearing a war that was still miles away, and the town was both safe and bored. It wasn’t where he wanted to be, but he was making the best of his time there. The bored nobles had greeted him with open arms when they heard that the famous bard Jaskier had appeared in their city, and he’d quickly set about entertaining them. </p><p>Jaskier was not wholly unfamiliar with war. He was forty-seven years old, and Redania had, like most of the countries on the Continent, been at war every few decades when resentments with Temaria bloomed up, or more petty matters such as jilted princes, or trade wars, made the king call for his vassals. Jaskier himself had never been to war, but one of his brothers had passed away leading soldiers into battle, and his father had travelled with their knights to war twice in Jaskier’s youth. </p><p>But he could tell that this was something different, they all could. This was nothing like the petty wars of kings and queens where soldiers died so a border could move one mile to the right, or taxes on trade could be lowered a few percent. In the north, Radovid wanted to eradicate anything magical, and his hatred of those not human was well known. New pogroms loomed on the horizon, and non-humans were being treated worse than ever. </p><p>No-one knew what Nilfgaard wanted, but rumours said that they wouldn’t be happy until they had conquered everything, that they wanted to swallow the Continent whole. Overdramatic, sure, but no one could be certain it was wrong. </p><p>But all in all, things were rather safe and quiet in Brugge. In all fairness, though Jaskier was loath to admit it, maybe it was safer for him there than in Redania. Radovid’s rule was becoming more and more hostile to non-humans and Jaskier’s elven heritage was becoming more and more obvious as he aged.</p><p>There really was no denying the fact that Jaskier was ageing out of passing as human, he thought as he traced a finger over his reflection. He’d run into an old school mate last year and had looked the same age as his son. The excuses that a life without a child or responsibilities left a man looking young, jokes that had gotten laughs five years ago, were now resulting in stilted silences. Though his family had done their best to keep him away from king Vizimir’s court, Radovid knew how old he was. At least in Brugge, no one knew him enough to object when he had shaved ten years off his age, but in Redania… He couldn’t help feeling like he had lost his last chance to visit home. By the time it would be safe to travel that far, he’d be over fifty and still look twenty. There’d be no denying his elven heritage.</p><p>There was no point in dwelling on things that were beyond him to change. <em>You are safe, and you will see your family again, somehow</em>. Jaskier told himself firmly, turning away from the mirror. </p><p>His youth wasn’t the only thing on his mind though. New rumours had started to arise. While Brugge was mostly sealed off and waiting for the war to reach its borders, people were still allowed to enter the city to sell their wares. Information of the continent got to them through merchants, whom Jaskier had met a fair deal of in taverns after performances. He had started to wander the city more and more at night. He found it quite stifling to sit in the castle with the same nobles, going over the same gossip with the same people, as they requested he play the same songs. </p><p>Lately he had been hearing rumours of witchers, multiple, having been sighted and fighting at the border of the Brokilon forest. Jaskier had dismissed the rumours, they made no sense; witchers didn’t travel in packs, for one, and they would have no reason to take up arms against Brokilon of all places.</p><p>It’s possible he should have paid more attention.</p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>“Jaskier the Bard?” a voice behind him asked, just as Jaskier stepped out of the tavern he’d spent the evening entertaining. He had needed a break from his regular company, and he had missed playing his dirtier songs. The mayor of Brugge was no Queen Calanthe, he could not get away with playing Fishmonger's Daughter in that court. </p><p>Jaskier looked around to see where the voice came from, trying to be subtle about it. He was always happy to meet an admirer, but less keen on robbers and bandits. Even Jaskier had had to learn to be cautious lately.</p><p>The man who stepped out of the shadows, having apparently been lurking outside the tavern hoping to find him, certainly didn’t seem like an admirer of fine music and entertainment. </p><p>“What business do you have with this renowned bard?” Jaskier asked, trying to sound nonchalant. </p><p>“A mutual friend has sent me,” the man replied, voice so low it was almost a whisper, and now Jaskier was pretty sure he was talking to a would-be kidnapper or robber at the very least. His heart started beating fast as he tried to glance around to see if he could make it back inside the tavern, or if there was a sympathetic ear nearby should he scream. </p><p>But then the man stepped closer, deliberately angling himself so that Jaskier could better see him in the moonlight. Jaskier was able to make out yellow eyes, a scarred face, two twin swords on his back and a wolf's medallion, just like Geralt’s, around his neck. A Witcher. Thank the Gods.</p><p>“I’ve never met someone who grows calmer when they realise a witcher has approached them in an empty alleyway,” the man said in slight bewilderment. “Geralt told me you weren’t scared of our kind, but I didn’t quite believe him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, if you had skipped the dramatic lurking in the shadow part of your introduction, then maybe a poor bard such as myself would have nothing to calm down from! I thought you might be a bandit!” Jaskier admonished the Witcher, feeling slightly out of sorts as the panic that had been building dissipated. </p><p>“May I buy the poor bard a drink, to make up for my rudeness?” the Witcher asked with an amused smile and a gesture towards the tavern Jaskier had just exited. </p><p>“You may,” Jaskier sniffed, still feeling slightly wronged, but eager to hear news of Geralt.</p><p>“After you then,” the Witcher said, tone more amused than it needed to be, as he stepped forward to hold open the door for Jaskier.</p><p>Jaskier had already had a fair few drinks during and after his performance, but he happily instructed the Witcher on what type of wine to buy as he made his way to a table to wait. He sat there, watching the Witcher attempting to catch the attention of the hesitant barman, and he tried to remember what Geralt had told him about his family. </p><p>Getting Geralt to tell him anything useful had often been a bit of a pain, and he had been the most tightlipped when it came to his witcher secrets. Jaskier had almost fallen over the first time he had seen Geralt do some witchery magic. He had been so unprepared. But as the years spent side by side increased, he had started to let some things slip during late nights with just them around a small fire; such as the names of the witchers he called his brothers, though naturally, in typical Geralt fashion, all the descriptions were ‘Lambert, a prick’ and ‘I grew up with Eskel’ and ‘Vesemir, he was like a father to us’. It wasn’t much to go by.</p><p>“Here,” the Witcher said as he placed Jaskier’s drink on the table, taking a seat and gulping down half of his mead in one go. </p><p>In the decently-lit tavern Jaskier took note that this Witcher appeared to be the same age as Geralt, not that that revealed much, and he had rather deep scarring down his face and lip. He also looked dusty and grimy, as if he had ridden here in a hurry, and had not spared any time for cleaning up or resting. </p><p>“Planning on telling me your name any time soon? or am I to guess it, like I did Geralt’s once upon a time?” Jaskier coaxed the man who had sought him out. </p><p>“I’m Eskel,” the man replied, looking surprised as Jaskier reached his hand forward to shake, staring at it in bewilderment for a second before taking Jaskier’s hand in his. </p><p>“Geralt’s brother then,” Jaskier hummed as he leaned forward in his chair. “What brings you here? If you are looking to commission some songs, I’ll give you a family discount.”</p><p>Eskel laughed softly before saying, “If only, bard, but I’m afraid my reasons for coming are more serious than that.”</p><p>“I was afraid of that,” he sighed. “What trouble is Geralt in now?”</p><p>“Listening to him speak would have you believing you are the magnet for trouble.” Eskel quipped, face relaxing into a smile. </p><p>“<em>Excuse</em> me?!” Jaskier exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his hands, “He is the one that always meddles! And then denies doing so!”</p><p>“He does tend to do that,” Eskel agreed with a nod, “and that is why I’m here.”</p><p>“Called it!” Jaskier sing-songed.</p><p>“... Fine.” Eskel laughed before turning serious once more. “The matter is a bit too sensitive to discuss here, but what I can say is that, yes, Geralt did meddle. We all did, thinking we were doing the right thing. But now we are stretched thin and unsure of how to proceed, and Geralt could use a friend. He could use cheering up. And you seem to be the only person we know who might have some understanding of humans and who we can trust with...”  Eskel paused before bending forward to whisper “Cirilla” in Jaskier’s ear before leaning back. </p><p>“I’m not the type of person I would expect Witchers to go to in a crisis,” Jaskier said thoughtfully, “I’m far from incapable, Gods know I did much to improve Geralt’s life over the years. But I can’t fight, I can barely forage. In fact, Geralt himself told me I was nothing but a nuisance that got him into trouble, if I’m allowed to paraphrase, about five years ago, and then left never to be seen again! Why would he send for my help now?”</p><p>“I think he misses you, and he needs help,” Eskel replied, disarming Jaskier with the simplicity of his answer. “Will you come?”</p><p>“Of course I will.” Jaskier sighed, not even pretending he might consider refusing, making peace with the fact that he would come to regret this decision, but unable to turn his back on Geralt even now.</p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>Eskel wanted to leave right away, but Jaskier had too much to pack and was frankly too inebriated for that to be a good idea, so they agreed to meet after breakfast. </p><p>When Jaskier entered his bedroom the reality of what he had agreed to had not quite sunk in yet. He firmly told himself to leave it until tomorrow, and either his mind decided to listen to him for once, or the drinks finally hit, because he managed to pass out before the anxiety managed to take hold. </p><p>Once Jaskier woke, however, the reality of what he had agreed on began to creep in. </p><p>“Oh, fuuuuck,” he moaned, rolling over and hiding under a pillow for a few additional minutes before flopping dramatically towards the edge of the bed. Theatrics were never quite as satisfying without an audience, Jaskier sighed, but it did make him feel a little better anyway. </p><p>His mother would kill him when she found out he had left the safety of the Brugge court to go off and travel with the Witcher that had broken his heart. He would be literally making his way towards the centre of the current conflicts for someone he had no obligations towards. Someone who had left him. </p><p>Despite that, there was no question about it. He was going, of course he was. But as he dragged himself to the desk to pen down a letter to his mother that would arrive weeks or months from now and cause her endless worry, he felt guilty for the grief he would cause her. Jaskier quite often jumped headfirst into trouble with no thoughts about the consequences, but he supposed that age and the dreary seriousness of war had finally penetrated his thick skull. He hoped, no, he <em>would</em> get to visit his mother and father again, see his sisters and brothers and the children they would surely have produced by the time this was over. But he wouldn’t be Jaskier if he stayed still, stayed safe, when he was needed. </p><p>Letter and guilt dealt with, Jaskier packed up his belongings, threw his lute over his back and left the safety of the Brugge court behind without a backwards glance. </p><p>“Morning,” Jaskier greeted Eskel when he spotted him waiting by the kitchen exit. </p><p>“<em>Afternoon</em>,” Eskel replied pointedly, arching an eyebrow towards Jaskier. </p><p>“What is time anyway?” Jaskier shrugged. He’d just woke up so it was morning. The logic was sound. “Whatever the hour may be, I managed to charm us some provisions from the kitchens. You’re welcome.” </p><p>“… Fine.” Eskel replied, clearly biting his tongue on a retort. “These lands aren't safe to travel right now. We’ll move faster on horseback,” Eskel informed him as Eskel led him towards the stables and Jaskier hummed absently in reply, “I have money for another horse, if you know how to ride one?”</p><p>“I have a horse! Do I know-, of course I-, who do you take me for?” Jaskier scoffed, before squinting suspiciously. “What has Geralt been saying about me?”</p><p>Eskel pressed his lips together and held up his hands pacifyingly. “Just that you usually travel by foot, bard, no insult intended.”</p><p>“Hmphf,” Jaskier muttered, as his horse was saddled and prepared, “’No insult intended’, my arse. I’ll have you know that my riding is exemplary! It’s just not always practical for a travelling bard, makes you a target during lean times and…” </p><p>Eskel let him rant while they rode out of the city. After a while, Jaskier himself lost track of what subject he was talking about, but the ranting helped keep his mind off of what he had gotten himself into. </p><p> </p><p>Traveling with Eskel was different than travelling with Geralt. Two decades together had them establishing a steady routine, and had forced Geralt to become used to company, though the grump still grumbled. </p><p>Eskel clearly wasn’t used to travelling with a bard, and he started to methodically set up camp without any demands for Jaskier to help, likely assuming he wouldn’t be much use. Jaskier supposed that he should appreciate it, but it made him miss Geralt’s taciturn ways, and the systems they had wordlessly developed for sharing their chores. </p><p><em>When have you ever needed an invitation, Jaskier?</em> He asked himself, taking things into his own hands and getting started on making a fire and unpacking the provisions he had charmed out of the cooks that morning. </p><p>They settled in for supper and Jaskier was burning with desire to ask about Geralt: how he was, what had happened, why had he sent for Jaskier now? </p><p>Did he want Jaskier by his side again? </p><p>“The past few years, we’ve been on the run, but about a year or two ago, we decided to stop running and start fighting.” Eskel finally said. “It was a snap decision, really, but one we couldn’t figure out how to walk away from once we had started. Nilfgaard just kept coming, and they weren't the only ones. Even with Yennefer’s help, it was getting harder and harder for Geralt. So one day we decided to make a stand, to fight.”</p><p>“We had Yennefer and Triss Merigold with us. We fought at the border of Brokilon forest, the dryads helped, the battle was easily won.”</p><p>“That explains some of the rumours I heard… but I’m hardly much help in battle, surely you know that?”</p><p>“It wasn’t the fighting that was the problem,” Eskel sighed, face drawn and exhausted. “It was everything else. We are witchers, bard, we kill monsters and then we walk away. We don’t linger. But it turns out you can’t just liberate a town and be done with it.”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“Did I stun you into silence, bard? I’ll be sure to inform Geralt.” Eskel snorted with a self-deprecating laugh. “As I said, witchers aren’t the type to stay once the dust settles, and I’m afraid that we’ve been cocking up royally since we decided to play at war.”</p><p>“Eskel, of course, I’ll do all that I can, but how on earth can a bard can help you in matters of war and destiny?” Jaskier asked in disbelief at the news. Since when did Geralt meddle this deeply into the affairs of humans?</p><p>“I don’t know!” Eskel burst out, “Maybe you will have some experience? Some common sense?” </p><p>At this, Jaskier flailed hysterically. “Please tell me you didn’t bring <em>me</em> to provide <em>common sense</em>?!”</p><p> </p><p>“It was Cirilla's and Lambert’s idea to bring you, Jaskier. Cirilla thought it might cheer Geralt up, we thought it might cheer her up...things have been grim, Jaskier. This is not a world we know how to navigate and I don’t see how...” For the first time since collecting him, Eskel let down some of his walls, and let Jaskier see just how worried and tired he was. </p><p>They sat silently for a moment until Eskel continued, “Even if I’m just here to fetch you for a few cheery songs, I must admit I jumped at the chance to collect you. We need all the uplifting we can get, because if we have to spend another evening going over everything that’s falling apart and all the things we don’t know how to make right, I fear <em>we</em> will all fall apart.”</p><p>“Does Geralt know you are collecting me?” Jaskier asked, growing suspicious. Geralt wasn’t known to ask for help or for the things that brought him joy.</p><p>“He doesn’t.” Eskel confirmed, “I’ve gotten the impression that something happened the last time you parted. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the full truth Jaskier, I had to make sure that you would come. Know that you have no reason to wonder about your welcome. You will be warmly greeted.”</p><p>“Well, I brought my lute,” Jaskier said nonsensically, feeling disturbed by all the information he had just received. He had known that Geralt would likely be in danger, either from the regular work of a witcher or the Nilfgaardians, if he had gone to collect his Child Surprise. But he would never have been able to imagine something like this. He knew that Geralt’s heroism and tendency to make snap decisions under pressure could lead to less than ideal consequences, but this... </p><p>They drifted off into silence again, as Jaskier honestly couldn’t think of anything to say, and poor Eskel seemed to be at the end of his rope. Jaskier decided that he didn’t want to think about what might greet him once they arrived tomorrow. So instead of asking more questions he retrieved his lute and strummed some familiar melodies as he attempted to distract himself and hopefully soothe Eskel’s mind. </p><p>They sat like that, silent besides the music of his lute, until exhausted and worried they attempted to sleep.</p><p>-----</p><p>In the morning, Jaskier awoke and put on an air of joviality, despite his stomach still churning in worry, determined not to bring more gloom into whatever dreadful affair he was about to enter. As they rode on, Jaskier peppered Eskel with questions about the different monsters he had killed and creatures he had encountered. </p><p>The ride ended up rather pleasant, he could almost pretend that he was a young man again, filled with innocent curiosity as he followed a handsome Witcher to places unknown. </p><p>“War makes me almost miss the monsters,” Eskel sighed, after a rather exciting account of his last basilisk kill. </p><p>“I would imagine so. I know killing monsters is rarely as simple as it sounds, but having to deal with wartime politics and humanity at its worst, and the things humans do to each other, to others...” Jaskier murmured, trailing off. </p><p>“Rather cynical of you, I must say.”</p><p>“Don’t let my cheerful countenance and idealism fool you,” Jaskier replied. “I’ve never actually been an optimist.”</p><p>They reached the edge of a town, passing through the gates of the outer wall, which had been left open, and Jaskier could see why, since not far from it, the wall lay in ruin, rubble stretching out and bricks stewn on the ground. Once they passed through the gates, the scars from the fighting were obvious, houses had been burnt down, farmland abandoned.  Not many people were out, though some of the farmers seemed to be patrolling near their houses, a sign that they felt unsafe and distrusted their lord's willingness or ability to protect them. </p><p>Jaskier threw a questioning look at Eskel, who just continued forwards. “Is this where you’ve been living?” Jaskier asked, trying not to betray any emotion as he spoke. </p><p>“No, these are the farmers. We stay in the castle.”</p><p>They rode on, with farmers glaring at them as they passed. Soon Jaskier spotted a castle and a town on the top of a hill, and while the place wasn’t familiar to Jaskier on sight, the crests identified it as belonging to the Adelcrantz family. </p><p>“Are you guests of Lord Adelcrantz?” Jaskier asked, surprised. “I don’t remember them as particularly fond of anything they consider non-human. If I remember correctly, every few years the Count of Vaasa, or Hard Drinking Harry as some of his friends call him, likes to get completely pissed and charge at Brokilon with some equally drunk old peers of his. Usually his children put a stop to it, less out of any love for the dryads mind you, and more to avoid embarrassment.”</p><p>“You know them?” Eskel asked, hands tightening on his reins. </p><p>“I played at their daughter's wedding, she married a Baron in Kerack.”</p><p>“I didn’t see any daughters.” Eskel said, hesitatingly. “We aren't guests here, Jaskier. I should have told you the whole truth of it last night but I suppose I was hoping it wouldn’t be necessary. We fought the people here on behalf of the dryads. I believe the youngest son fled with his wife and the wife of his brother, but I’m afraid the father and the oldest two sons were killed, by us, in the fighting.”</p><p>“Right,” Jaskier said faintly. </p><p>They spent the rest of the ride in silence, as Jaskier tried to digest what he had heard. As they entered the castle courtyard, he was distracted by the new sights. It would be too dramatic to say that the estate was in ruins. The castle and most of the buildings in the town were still standing after all, but the observation still wasn’t too far off the mark; shops lay empty, their windows broken, and there were beggars everywhere, looking at them with drawn and tired faces. </p><p>They dismounted by the stables and left the horses for a young and scared looking stable boy to care for.</p><p>“Come, let’s take you straight to Geralt,” Eskel instructed, taking Jaskier’s belongings and making his way inside the castle. </p><p>Jaskier wasn't sure if it was the tension speaking, or if the manor really was that oppressive, but the walk to Geralt’s room felt like trying to walk through a tornado. Jaskier knew, rationally, that Geralt wouldn’t reject him and leave him to fend for himself here. It wasn’t even like Jaskier was angry anymore either. He knew it would all be fine, yet it still felt like he was walking towards heartbreak all over again. </p><p>“Breathe, Jaskier,” Eskel urged, bringing Jaskier back to the present by placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just Geralt on the other side of that door.”</p><p>“When has there ever been anything ‘just’ about Geralt?” Jaskier asked with a faint smile in Eskel’s direction, glad for the comfort.</p><p>Eskel then reached out and opened the door and there he was. </p><p>“Jaskier,” Geralt said in surprise, eyes wide as he took him in. </p><p>After a moment's pause where they just stared at each other, Geralt rose from behind his desk and walked up to Jaskier, stopping a few inches away from him and just staring in shock. Whenever they reunited, it often surprised Jaskier that he was of a height with Geralt, the man's presence always grew so large in his absence. But this time he seemed smaller than Jaskier remembered, tired and weighed down. </p><p>They stood staring at each other, as neither seemed to know what to do. Usually, Jaskier always initiated their greetings and reunions with a slap on his back or a hug if Geralt was clean of blood and gore. Never before, not even on the day they met, had he hesitated to approach. </p><p>Jaskier was aware of Eskel standing behind them and looking at them staring at each other in silence and Jaskier thought; fuck it, this circus is more embarrassing than a rejected hug. </p><p>“No need for all this staring Geralt, it’s just me,” he said, taking a step forward and wrapping his arms around Geralt. Geralt slowly brought his hands up, and returned the hug with more force than Jaskier had been expecting, holding on to Jaskier even as Jaskier started to let go.</p><p>“I heard that you were in dire need of a bard!” Jaskier said, his attempt at being jolly and casual perhaps coming off as slightly hysterical, as he tried to break the tension. “And what luck that I had a gap in my performance calendar. I’ve been performing in Brugge for <em>months</em>. I’m in desperate, desperate need for a fresh new audience.”</p><p>Geralt just stared at him as he spoke, but he didn’t seem to be bothered so Jaskier kept up the chatter, both to distract himself from his own nerves and to keep the moment from becoming too stifling, since all Geralt seemed to want to do was stare at him intently. </p><p>They were interrupted by an unfamiliar young man knocking on the open door, “Lord Geralt, I’m here to once again beseech you to-”</p><p>“Why don’t I show Jaskier to his room?” Eskel interrupted the man, moving to Jaskier and steering him out of the room with a hand on his lower back, not waiting for a reply from either Jaskier or Geralt. Once he had closed the door to Geralt’s office, he picked up the conversation again. “You can freshen up a bit and I’ll send someone for you in an hour or so to show you around and bring you to supper.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, are we just breezing past <em>Lord Geralt?</em>” Jaskier burst out, throwing his arms wide. </p><p>“We haven’t been able to make the peasants stop doing that,” Eskel said with a grimace. </p><p>“No, I suppose that's to be expected once you <em>become their Lord</em>,” Jaskier said, not quite over that revelation just yet. “I must say out of all the possible outcomes I had imagined or hoped for Geralt during our time apart, this had not been one of them. I’m not usually accused of having a poor imagination, but I must confess that life has proved far more interesting than my imagination.”</p><p>“Far too interesting, in my opinion,” Eskel drolly replied. “But we are in this mess now, all of us.”</p><p>“Well, look on the bright side, most people dream about being lords, of having an estate,” Jaskier responded, attempting to put a positive spin on it, but even he could admit it fell rather flat.</p><p>“Did you?”</p><p>“Well, no,” Jaskier honestly replied, “My father is the Viscount of Lettenhove, and my brother will take over from him one day. It was never an option or an ambition of mine. I’ve always prefered having the freedom to make my own way in the world.”</p><p>“If even half of the tales I’ve heard about you are true, I’d say you’ve managed to make quite the way,” Eskel said with a smile as he gestured for Jaskier to move inside one of the guest rooms. </p><p>The room was what you would expect, really, from a guest bedroom in an estate of this size. It had a rather lovely bed and desk in the green and brown colours of the Adelcrantz coat of arms, not terribly different from the room he had left behind in Brugge. </p><p>“I’ll leave you to it. Someone will come by soon and give you a tour. You should have all you might need to freshen up, if not, let someone know.”</p><p>“Thank you, Eskel,” he said absently as he moved to look out from his bedroom window. </p><p>What on earth had he gotten himself into this time?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Not long after, he could hear footsteps and an eager knock on the door. As he rose to open it, he was greeted by a pair of curious eyes and a mop of unruly blonde hair. </p><p>“Princess Cirilla, it’s wonderful to see you here, hale and healthy,” Jaskier greeted with a soft smile and a respectful nod of his head. </p><p>“Jaskier, Geralt has told me a lot about you,” she replied with a shy smile. </p><p>“What tales has he been spreading, huh? I bet he has been saying all sorts of falsehoods about my person, but no matter. By the end of this evening, I shall set the record straight, and bring you many tales of our triumphant adventures!” Jaskier exclaimed with a wink. “I’ll even let you decide if you’d prefer them in verse or boring old normal speech like Geralt always demands...”</p><p>Cirilla was giggling now, the worry momentarily gone from her eyes, and with her at ease, he looked further into the corridor, at the looming shadow just behind her. The yellow eyes revealed him to be another Witcher. </p><p>“So this is the bard,” the man said, stepping out of the shadows to lean arrogantly against the doorway. He must be Lambert, Jaskier assumed, from the general aura of prickliness.</p><p>“The one and only,” Jaskier replied with a confident nod. “And this must be the little brother.”</p><p>“There is nothing little about me, Buttercup,” Lambert sneered, crossing his arms. Jaskier didn’t know if this was to display the size of his biceps, or an attempt at acting intimidating. But Jaskier had never gone in for the whole macho nonsense some men seemed to prefer, so he just took a moment to appreciate the show, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow at Lambert. </p><p>“And if we didn’t have a chaperone, I’d let you prove it to me,” Jaskier replied with a wink, taking Cirilla’s hand and following her out while Lambert spluttered in his wake. </p><p>They passed Eskel and another Witcher who was introduced as Coën. Every one of them looked tired, the bone-deep type of exhaustion born from anxiety and stress, and he was sad to see it also in Cirilla. These past years couldn’t have been easy on any of them, but her especially, having to constantly be on the run. He did his best to cheer her up during their tour, recalling every single instance Geralt had made a fool of himself in their twenty-two years of friendship, giving some live reenactments of the top three times Geralt fell into a swamp arse first. </p><p>This was apparently also the way into Lambert’s heart, as he took a gleeful amount of joy out of the tales Jaskier shared. </p><p>While Jaskier could clearly see that things were not in the best of shape at the estate, now wasn't the time to ask about it, so instead he focused on his companions, doing his best to put a smile on Cirilla's face. </p><p>------</p><p>The thing they don’t tell you, that he supposes no one has bothered to consider, was that half-elves don’t mature as quickly as humans. </p><p>Jaskier himself hadn’t really given it much consideration initially, if concerns like love and settling down felt like foreign concepts, well, perhaps he was just a bachelor at heart, drawn in by the noble call of music and poetry. </p><p>He never quite fit in with his peers, they kept maturing and changing so fast, and he always felt like he was just slightly out of tune, always hurrying to keep pace. Not intellectually, thank you very much, but, if he were to be honest, in everything else. </p><p>It felt like a relief to be on the road with his lute, where he could shape his own path away from all the expectations and norms of academia and the nobility. </p><p>Jaskier does not know if it’s his elven side, or just his own unique obliviousness to blame for the fact that he had not realised he was in love with Geralt until they started climbing up King Niedamir's mountain. </p><p>Jaskier had spent his life doing what pleased him, chasing his desires where they led him, but he had somehow failed to notice, until it was too late, that there was one person he hadn’t left, and that what pleased him the most was staying by Geralt’s side. Year after year, for two decades, he found Geralt or Geralt found him, and they spent whole seasons together. By the time Jaskier was forty years of age, his career, his nobility, they meant that he could move in whatever circles he pleased. He could easily find a job in a court or university. He had many good friends and access to a comfortable life. In fact, he greatly enjoyed the life he led separately from Geralt. Yet somehow, despite all the hardships that came with it, Jaskier always found himself back on the road with Geralt.</p><p>The realisation had surprised and terrified him, as he watched Geralt run after someone else. When he finally understood that he could lose Geralt, that he might not always be there for Jaskier to seek out when the snow melted and spring rolled over the Continent; that Geralt might want something, and someone, else.</p><p>He had made an attempt to tell Geralt, to get him to stay with him, but the words, they came out clumsily, as he tried to articulate emotions he himself hadn’t quite yet understood.He thought Geralt probably understood him anyway. Perhaps not the full meaning, but he understood enough to reject the offer of staying by Jaskier’s side. </p><p>It had hurt when Geralt cast him away, yes, but he hadn’t for a second thought they wouldn’t see each other again. Yes, Jaskier had been quite peeved at the treatment he had received, but it had been five years past at this point, and he had forgiven his friend a long time ago. </p><p>He had always known that eventually, he would have his friend back in some capacity, but he had to now come to terms with Geralt having a family, being settled down with Yennefer and Cirilla, and that, as with so many of his friends and former lovers, he’d be left with the occasional visit to reminisce about old times, as he watched them settle into domesticity. He was happy for them, and he was happy for Geralt, even though it made him ache to know he had lost him. It had been foolish and selfish of him to hope that he might get to keep Geralt by his side, when that life hadn’t been one that Geralt had chosen. He would be, no, he <em>was </em>happy for Geralt. </p><p>Perhaps it was lucky that Geralt now seemed to be tied to something so outside of Jaskier’s life, that he likely wouldn’t be seeing much of Geralt going forward, maybe it would stop him from breaking his heart again. </p><p>It didn’t feel like luck, it felt like loss, but it was likely for the best. </p><p>He was in a rather melancholic mood when he descended the stairs to the dining room, but he’d always known how to deliver a good performance, and so he spent supper being his most charming self. Once the food had been cleared, he played a few rousing songs, some classics that had them all clapping hands, and then at Cirilla's and Lambert’s urging, a few about his exploits with Geralt. </p><p>“Toss a coin to your witcher!” Cirilla and Lambert sang at the top of their voices, enjoying how every repeat of the chorus got Geralt’s frown to intensify just a little bit more, but there was a distinct twitch to his lip that betrayed his amusement. </p><p>“Toss a coin to-” </p><p>Their singing was interrupted by Yennefer and another sorceress appearing suddenly by portal. </p><p>“Come here, Ciri,” Yennefer commanded, her arm reaching out and when Cirilla was within reach, her arm fell over her shoulder protectively and drew her near. “Geralt, they are marching on us soon from the east, not far from here a lord has started to send messengers to his knights and soldiers. In a few days, he will be ready to march.”</p><p>“We don’t know if they are here for Cirilla or because they oppose our presence here, so Yennefer is going to take Ciri, and I’ll go with you.” The other sorceress said, “Yennefer will join us and bring Cirilla back here if there isn’t any danger to her. We had a look at their army, and it’s mostly old knights gone soft from a peaceful life. They will be no match to witchers and mages, if we march before the lord can pull his peasants from the field to the battlefield, it will be an easy victory.”</p><p>“Then we should ride to meet him, spare the people here another fight.” Geralt sighed, “We’ll ride at dawn, no sense in postponing this. How far to their keep?”</p><p>“Five days ride. I’m leaving with Cirilla tonight, so say your goodbyes while I have our bags prepared. Jaskier.” Yennefer gave him a nod and raised a curious eyebrow at seeing him there, then swept out of the room, her black cloak billowing behind her as she exited the dining room.   </p><p>Her exit signalled a flurry of activities as the people around him got organised. Cirilla’s brave face broke his heart as Jaskier watched her embrace Geralt and then rush off to parts unknown. </p><p>The second sorceress (“I’m Triss, big fan!”), rushed off to catch as much sleep as she could, followed soon by the other witchers. Not long after Yennefer’s bombshell of an arrival, only Geralt and Jaskier were left in the dining area, which felt awfully large now that it hosted only the two of them. </p><p>Jaskier considered playing another song, or reminiscing about a fond memory, playing jolly and acting the distraction as he so often did. But as tempting as it was to try to get Geralt’s mind off his troubles for a little while longer, Jaskier had learnt the hard way that that wasn’t always what his friend needed. And he felt a need to understand just how Geralt had ended up in this situation. Besides, the time where the two of them could just run away was long past, and there was no point in pretending that ignoring their responsibilities was an option. </p><p>“I was an idiot,” Geralt grunted unprompted. “We were cornered, Brokilon offered to hide us and Ciri and heal Yennefer, but for a price. We were to defend them from this estate when they attacked. We were tired, hungry, and Yennefer had yet to recover from Sodden. We needed aid, and it seemed a fair price to pay in exchange.”</p><p>“Lord Adelcrantz has been fighting the dryads for decades, just small escalations mostly. Now, however, the new King of Verden is in conflict with the dryads since they block trade routes to Temeria. Everyone is busy looking north at Radovid and south at Nilfgaard, and the dryads have no ally’s amongst the humans. Now, if ever, is the time to escalate such conflicts. This estate has-, had,“ Jaskier said, stumbled over his words as he explained, ”too many sons, the land there would have been more tempting than ever. I suspect Lord Adelcrantz was hoping to secure himself a bit of it. But I’m surprised he couldn’t be talked out of it, his motivations to escalate I suspect were mainly monetary at heart, and he was a selfish man. He should have listened to reason once he saw himself outnumbered, and that the dryads had defenders.”</p><p>“We didn’t talk or ask questions. We fought them, and we killed the lord and a few of his sons. We thought that’d be the end of it, but at Yennefer’s urging, we did visit the estate, made it our base for a few weeks. But none of us knew how to manage farmers and the daily minutia of a place like this…” Geralt revealed as he looked around with tired eyes. “So we figured, lords die all the time, the king will find a son or a cousin, hopefully, one that leaves the dryads alone, and that will be that.”</p><p>“Oh, Geralt...” Jaskier sighed. </p><p>“Instead some bandits came and took over. They raped and they killed and they destroyed and they terrorised the people here for a whole winter, while we were in Kaer Morhen. We fought about what to do next. Leave this for the humans or make right what we destroyed.” Geralt clenched his hands so hard they turned white, guilt evident in every word he spoke “So we killed the self-named baron and his bandits. And now, again, we were left with this estate, and now the people are poorer, there are less of them… and we still have no idea what we are doing or how to make it better.”</p><p>Jaskier knew Geralt had had nothing but the best intentions, but those intentions had resulted in fatal consequences that had left the people here suffering, and while Jaskier wanted to absolve Geralt, forgiveness wasn’t his to give, nor would it have been welcome. But he could do his best to help. </p><p>“While you are gone, I’ll do my best to help,” Jaskier promised, “I’ve never run an estate, but my father spent years teaching all of us how.” </p><p>“I can’t ask you to stay here,” Geralt grunted. “You shouldn’t even be here now, it isn’t safe.”</p><p>“Then it’s lucky you didn’t ask, and I offered,” Jaskier replied, tipping over slightly to his right so that his shoulder connected to Geralt’s for a moment, before he moved back to his own spot. “I’ll be just as safe here as I would anywhere else, Geralt. In case it’s passed your notice, there is a war going on.” Jaskier attempted to jest, though it felt slightly flat. “Eskel can escort me back when you return, a few weeks here or there won't make any difference. Let me help.”</p><p>It worried Jaskier that Geralt didn’t object more. He didn’t even half-heartedly insult Jaskier. Jaskier had never seen Geralt look this tired and despondent. They sat side by side in silence, neither quite ready to go to bed knowing it would be the last they saw of each other for a while.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you liked this chapter! I’m also <a href="https://thedaywasnew.tumblr.com/">theydaywasnew</a> on tumblr</p><p>CW: mention of rape, as a fact or war (and not in relation to any character mentioned)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An enormous thank you to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider">dragon_rider</a> for helping me! And thank you to LadyNogs for teaching me about taxes and farming in medieval times! Any remaining inaccuracies are <strike>because I’m stupid</strike> due to artistic licence.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Jaskier got up at dawn to see everyone off, standing by Vesemir and Eskel, while Triss and the remaining witchers were preparing their horses. Four people against a lord’s entire estate. Jaskier knew they were planning on meeting up with two other griffin witchers on the way, but it just didn’t seem like nearly enough people. </p><p>Geralt gave Jaskier one last lingering glance before riding away, and that troubled look would be the last Jaskier would see of him for weeks. Jaskier stood there gazing as they rode off, until a drop of rain hit his head and awoke him from his brooding. </p><p>Well, then. Jaskier sighed, and headed to the kitchens to break his fast, sitting alone on a table as the staff milled about. They looked a little lost, though doggedly performing the tasks they had always performed, a well-oiled machine, just what you would expect from the kitchen staff in an old estate. Many had probably been serving the lords of Vaasa for generations. The staff here must have been spared from casualties during the numerous fights the estates had been forced to endure the past year. </p><p>Hanna, one of the cooks, confirmed this when he asked, taking the opportunity to sit and gossip, as any seasoned employee should. “Aye, I suppose we were lucky. So far there’s been enough men to handle whatever fight we’ve been drawn into. There hasn’t yet been a need to arm the cooks. Mind you, next fight I doubt we will be as fortunate, as so many young men have died. It will likely be the women and children on the front lines soon.”</p><p>While Jaskier would have liked to contradict her, he wouldn’t make any false promises. This estate was in no shape to fight off another attack; if one came they would have to either quickly surrender or fight with every last citizen armed. His father would have surrendered, he knew, and negotiated a deal for his children and subjects. An estate is more than just a family home, and the people there should not be sacrificed without a thought. But it wasn’t that simple here, bigger games were being played out on this arena than probably any of them knew. </p><p>“The food supply?” he asked, though he dreaded the answer.</p><p>“Not good, not sure if you’ve seen but the fighting destroyed many a livelihood, and the witchers have us feeding the poor, as is well and good sir, but the bloody baron already ate through most of our stores. We ain’t got much left and none coming in, what with the farmland destroyed.”</p><p>“Are the farmers planting? I’m no expert on this climate, but they should be sowing the fields, right? I saw none of that as I rode in.”</p><p>“They are doing what they can, but it’s not much. Their sons died defending the estate either from witchers, the baron, or witchers again. The too old and the too young are left to manage. If they get even a quarter of the crops planted and harvested this year it will be a miracle, but it still won't be enough to feed us all.”</p><p>There it was, the answer Jaskier had been dreading. The estate might still be functioning now, with the old staff going about their routines without much direction from the witchers, but not for much longer. At this pace, they would be hungry by autumn and starving before winter even started. They could buy grains if there was any wealth saved, but he doubted there would be much gold lying around, and any wealth tied to the estate would be claimed by Lord Adelcrantz’s living children. </p><p>Hanna gave him a shrewd look and brought out the vodka, and together they sat and drank, talking now of lighter things. </p><p> </p><p>Afterwards, Jaskier took a walk around the estate, talking to as many people as he could. It turned out that most of the beggars had been employed or even craftsmen before the fighting, but with their livelihoods destroyed they were left with no way but begging to provide for themselves. Their tales were dreary and sad, and Jaskier performed his cheeriest songs afterwards in the town square, doing his best to distract them, if just for a moment. </p><p>Eskel and Vesemir were too busy to join him for supper that night, so he took it with Hanna and the other cooks in the kitchens rather than eating alone in the dining rooms. </p><p>The next morning he saddled his horse and rode to the farmlands. </p><p>If anyone were to ask why Jaskier was going through all this trouble, why he wasn't just holed up inside the manor with some wine and his lute, waiting until Geralt returned, he wouldn’t know quite what to reply, even to himself. He had just been driven by an urge to help Geralt and the people here, with any advice that he might be able to give. He had left Lettenhove young, but his father had spent his whole childhood teaching him how to manage an estate, there had to be something he could help with here. </p><p>If Hanna and the cooks were to be believed, the previous lords of Vaasa had not been cruel to people or his staff, no better or worse than most lords. However poor Jaskier’s image was of the family patriarch, he had not abused or over-taxed his subjects. This, unfortunately, meant that however righteous the witchers may have been in their overtaking, their arrival, departure, and return, had brought nothing but misery to the subjects of the estate. </p><p>If hunger and starvation came, that resentment would either lead to large-scale abandonment or riots. The witchers and mages were too powerful to fear a peasant uprising, and rightly so, Jaskier thought with a shudder; they could crush it in a matter of minutes. But that lack of fear meant that they weren’t looking out for the signs of the danger the same way a regular human lord would, and Jaskier could see the signs plain as day. There was fear for starvation and anger wherever he looked.</p><p>Jaskier was poking around by the fields when he spotted an older man approaching. Deep in thought, as he had been, he started firing off questions the moment the man was within speaking distance. </p><p>“Has the earth been contaminated? You didn't bury the dead bodies around here, did you? Oh and hello there, good sir. I’m Jaskier, didn’t mean to not introduce myself before barging in.”</p><p>“... I’m Björn, this is my farm, that lad over there is my son Hans,” the farmer answered, more baffled than insulted by Jaskier’s sudden arrival. “Have the witchers sent you, sir? I’ve had my Hans there every day to petition them about our voes, but so far they just send him back with nought but a few condescending words.”</p><p>“Hmm, well, sure! Yes, I’m here to be their ears, let’s say, so please share your voes once more and I’ll try to make the witcher listen.” Jaskier said, not even knowing if he was lying. “I spoke to Hanna and she is concerned about the stocks lasting the winter.”</p><p>“Aye, she is a smart lady, and right to be concerned. You can see for yourself, all this destruction, and not half the hands needed to clear it, to plough it, and to sow it.” Björn took a deep breath and looked Jaskier straight in the eye. “We have a two to four weeks window to plant our grain, or we won't have anything to harvest come autumn, and the stores will be empty come winter. If it wasn't a war on, I’d have taken my wife and son and left to find work already, but the roads aren't safe, and cities are already filled with beggars most like. We will have no choice but to leave soon though, if nothing's been planted we can’t pay our taxes, and we can’t take on more debt.”  </p><p>“I’m in no position to promise anything, Björn, but you have my word that I’ll try everything I can,” Jaskier replied, hoping he’d have a solution, and that the witchers might deem it worth listening to. If they didn’t he might just have to sing them into submission.  </p><p>Jaskier spent the rest of the day walking the farmland before he made his way back to the manor for some food and rest. Neither Eskel nor Vesemir joined him for supper that night either, but Jaskier barely noticed, his mind whirling away at all that he had learned.</p><p>-----</p><p>The next morning Jaskier had his breakfast in silence, and then walked with determined steps up the stairs to the office Geralt had been in when he’d first arrived, figuring that’s where he would find Eskel or Vesemir. And indeed, a soft knock on the door resulted in a deep voice saying, “Enter.”</p><p>Jaskier pushed open the door and was greeted by Eskel standing pensive by the window, as Vesemir was sat by the desk, hunched over. </p><p>“I’m sorry, Jaskier. I know you’ve been left all alone here, that wasn’t my intention I just… I’ve just been so busy,” Eskel seemed to trail off and lose focus, his gaze drawn outside once more, and Jaskier walked over to the window to see what had caught his attention. It was the queue for lunch, where the cooks served all the hungry. It was longer today than it had been yesterday. </p><p>“Eskel, Vesemir, have you ever managed an estate? Or pardon me for asking, anything larger than a group of four witchers and a little girl?” Jaskier asked, hoping neither would take offence at a flimsy bard questioning their abilities. </p><p>“I was a fencing instructor,” Vesemir said with a sad laugh. “I’ve kept Kaer Morhen as whole as I could manage, but the boys bring their own provisions and we hunt what we need while the winter is young, ain’t none of us ever had a responsibility like this. Hell, none of us even lived long enough amongst humans to remember how these things are done.”</p><p>The thing was, Jaskier had always run away from responsibility. He only stayed in a place long enough to spread song and cheer and enjoy a willing body or two. There had been times when he had wished to stay for longer, but usually, his personality ensured he was driven off sooner or later. He could give Eskel and Vesemir his advice and then be on his way once Geralt arrived, and hope they managed on their own. Or he could offer to stay and help, until they were stable enough to manage the estate and all their subjects. </p><p>He felt the full weight of it, when he offered, “I’d like to help, if you’d allow it?”</p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>With permission to assist granted, Jaskier didn’t waste any time. He had Hanna and Hans summoned; Hanna to find out how many mouths they were feeding and how much food they had left in their stocks. Hans he had over to find out the size of the farmlands, and what grains they would be able to plant for an autumn harvest. Thankfully Vesemir was good with numbers, and together they poured over the books left behind by the estate’s accountant, to calculate how much of the tax could be reduced this year to ensure that the farmers could feed themselves and still bring in enough grain to support the castle and those in need. </p><p>The problem was that the witchers had had the cooks use almost all the grains in their stores as food. They had none left for the king's tax, and everything they harvested would need to go to feeding their people. But that issue had to be set aside for now, because it all would be moot if they all starved.  </p><p>“We have a lot of pressing concerns, many that I’m sure I’m not even aware of, but none of them will matter much if we all starve. So what we will need to do before anything else is to organise every person who can help to clear the fields.”</p><p>“We don’t have many strong men left.” Eskel sighed. </p><p>“The young and old can still carry rocks off the fields since that's what’s getting in the way of ploughs right now. The strong will move the heavier debris, or break them apart so that the others can move them.” Jaskier paused in his speech, slightly sheepish as he realised he’d been ordering the witchers about the whole day. “It’s past midnight, but if you take my advice, we can start clearing the fields tomorrow. We could announce it in the square after breakfast and get started right away.”</p><p>Eskel and Vesemir seemed to be holding a silent conversation as they contemplated Jaskier’s suggestion, and whether they were ready to put their trust into his hands. </p><p>“We start tomorrow,” Vesemir confirmed with a nod. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And start they did. The days passed in a flurry of activity as Jaskier flitted between the manor and the farmlands. Soon his belongings had been moved up to the tower so that he together with Eskel and Vesemir could stumble exhausted into bed without having to trail through half the manor to get to his bedroom. </p><p>Once the clearing was underway, Jaskier left it to Björn to supervise and sat down with Vesemir to plan tax, food storages, and preparations for the winter. </p><p>“With everyone in the estate occupied with the clearing on the field, we should be ready to plough in less than a week. Once we have planted the grains however, we have three farms left completely unmanned, as the families have passed.” Jaskier said while poring over his notes. “New families need to be given that land, ideally, considering how many homeless we have. We find families with both old and young to get as many as we can away from begging. Vesemir, could you look for families that fit the bill? But no craftsmen, those we need to get back to work as soon as possible, especially if you will be needing a steady supply of armour...”</p><p>And so the weeks passed. The second the fields were cleared, ploughed and planted, people were re-distributed to new tasks. Jaskier organised a population count that he put Vesemir in charge of, to get an understanding of the people they had on the estate, particularly those left to begging. Thanks to a few white lies to the Vivaldi bank, that he hoped he would be able to charm Vimme into forgiving, he managed to organise small loans so that craftsmen could re-build or re-stock their shops and workplaces, and with each passing week, fewer and fewer people were queuing for food, and the estate was getting back to a somewhat regular routine. </p><p>“You know much about running an estate,” Eskel remarked one night as the two of them sat on the floor of the office, finally getting around to eating the bread and cheese brought up by Hanna when they missed supper. </p><p>“My father taught all of us, even though I’d never inherit the title or the lands, he treated us all the same,” Jaskier replied with a fond smile. “Never thought I’d be putting those lessons to use.”</p><p>“No plans on marrying into a place like this?” Eskel asked, curious. </p><p>“It was always the open road that called to me, and I’m the type to follow my heart,” Jaskier murmured, looking out at the sky through the window. </p><p>“Do you miss it?”</p><p>“The freedom of the open road? Singing? I’m too tired to miss it,” he replied honestly. “I suppose I will eventually, but right now there is just too much to do.”</p><p>If Eskel continued speaking, Jaskier never heard, his eyes closing against his will as his exhaustion caught up with him, and he fell asleep right there. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Yennefer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An enormous thank you to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider">dragon_rider</a> for helping me! </p>
<p>This one is in Yennefer's POV!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was too exhausted for the aim needed to get her and Ciri to their bedchambers, so she focused on the courtyard and hoped for the best. She felt like she had barely rested in the past weeks, hell, years; having to stay underground with Ciri and then portal in to support Geralt when he fought had drained her, she needed time to recover her strength. </p>
<p>She didn’t think the estate was safe for Ciri, inevitably word had spread that witchers had claimed it, and it wouldn't take a genius to connect Ciri to that location, so they rarely stayed there. Right now though, with her exhausted from the latest battle, she couldn’t protect Cirilla on her own, and it was either here or staying with Geralt, and a battlefield was no place for a child. </p>
<p>At first, even though Yennefer had complete faith in her portalling accuracy, she thought she had made a mistake. </p>
<p>Gone were the poor and destitute beggars; looking around showed a modest, but still bustling market. There were messenger boys running from the castle, and children playing. The place was a far sight from the miserable guilt-inducing estate Yennefer knew it as.</p>
<p>Eskel came out running towards them with Jaskier at his heels, while Yennefer and Ciri stood in the square trying to take in all the changes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yennefer, is everything alright?” Eskel asked, though she doubted he was inquiring about her health. She answered anyway, as she didn’t trust the peasants enough to discuss important matters in their presence. “We are both fine, however, we are in need of rest. Have our rooms prepared and send up a bath.”</p>
<p>Eskel nodded, taking her carry-on and walking away in silence, leaving them with Jaskier who had struck up a conversation with Ciri as he led them inside the estate. As if he was more familiar with it than they were. </p>
<p>“... I took the liberty of redecorating your rooms slightly, Cirilla,” he was telling Ciri, when Yennefer turned her focus to their conversation. </p>
<p>“Oh, you didn’t need to do that!” she exclaimed. “My room was just fine!”</p>
<p>“It was far too dreary for a young woman to live in, and, well, I needed to give your handmaidens something to do in your absence,” Jaskier replied with a shrug and a nonchalant air. </p>
<p>“Her what?” Yennefer asked, her tone demanding an answer.</p>
<p>“I don’t need a handmaiden! I don’t want a handmaiden! I’m a witcher now and not a princess!” Ciri burst out, loudly, exhaustion and worry making her outburst more dramatic than it might normally have been. </p>
<p>At first Yennefer enjoyed the awkward look taking over Jaskier’s face, but was surprised at the exhaustion that overtook it, noting for the first time the dark circles underneath his eyes. “It will be your decision, of course, should you not wish to have them,” he replied.</p>
<p>“This is what you’ve been occupying yourself with while we were gone, decorating rooms and playing at courtly games?” Yennefer sneered at him. “We are at war.”</p>
<p>“You are at war, yes.” Jaskier sighed, looking around. “And so are your subjects, and war makes orphans out of little girls. We’ve been doing the best we can in securing people with employment, and those girls have been happy in their new tasks. But they can always be relocated,” as Jaskier spoke he was already waving over an errand boy. </p>
<p>“Wait,” Ciri said, stopping him. “I didn’t know. You can let them stay.”</p>
<p>“That’s very kind of you, Cirilla,” Jaskier said with a smile, and gestured for the two of them to continue inside. As they walked together to their rooms, he kept up light conversation with Ciri that Yennefer tuned out, too tired to focus on anything but putting one foot in front of the other, until finally they arrived at their door. </p>
<p>“Someone will come for you at supper. You can eat it in your rooms or join us, until then you can clean up and rest,” Jaskier tells them, hugging Ciri, and to Yennefer’s surprise, giving her a hasty hug, before retreating. </p>
<p>Yennefer didn’t have the energy to fully take in what she had just seen, and she was asleep the moment her back hit the bed, only briefly woken up by servants to be washed, sleeping though supper, and only waking as a new day reached its midpoint.</p>
<p>Ciri was nowhere to be seen, and Yennefer took a moment to search out the girl's consciousness, not intruding into her thoughts, only enough to tell that she was safe and sound somewhere inside the manor. With no other pressing worries, she walked to the kitchens to break her fast, and was brought bread and cheese. The kitchens were busy, she noted, but the people seemed, if not jolly exactly, then certainly more cheery than when she had left. </p>
<p>As she left the kitchens she was greeted by Eskel marching towards the door. “Yennefer,” he nodded politely, looking at her from the corner of his eye as she joined his side. </p>
<p>“The fighting should be done in a few days, our victory all but ensured,” she told him.</p>
<p>“Everyone alive?” he asks.</p>
<p>“So far. Triss has the xenovox. She will contact me if anything changes and we are needed.” </p>
<p>As they spoke Eskel led them away from the manor, and everywhere she looked she noted the differences; people were working rather than sitting around begging, and everyone seemed to have a purpose now, moving about like a well oiled machine. </p>
<p>“You’ve certainly gotten this place in order,” she commended Eskel, impressed despite herself. </p>
<p>“It’s thanks to Jaskier,” Eskel said with a smirk, as if he expected the reaction he received, which was her almost losing her footing in her surprise. </p>
<p>“You are giving credit to the bard?” She snorted. “Is this some sort of jest?”</p>
<p>“It is the truth. He took over making decisions pretty much as soon as Geralt left, ordering us all about the second he received permission. We are approaching the farms now, look,” he said, pointing almost eagerly, and she could certainly understand his joy. </p>
<p>Where there had been destitution, there was now growth. </p>
<p>They walked in silence, with Eskel responding to greetings as they passed by the farmers, eventually reaching the ruined fortifications where Jaskier was speaking to a young man he sent away when they reached him. </p>
<p>“You brought her, thank you, Eskel-” he started, clapping his hands together. </p>
<p>“Before you begin with whatever new plan you have, Jaskier, Ali and Sara had some questions about the armoury...”</p>
<p>She observed them curiously, interested despite herself. Eskel was laying out different problems and concerns that had been brought to him, and Jaskier provided him with his decisions and instructions, which seemed to satisfy Eskel as he made his leave. </p>
<p>“As I was saying, thank you for coming this way, Yennefer. I’ve been taking stock of the fortification this past week, and they are clearly not in the best shape.” Jaskier said while gesturing towards the pile of rubble and dust at their feet. </p>
<p>“I’d call that an understatement, bard,” she replied with some amusement.</p>
<p>“Nothing a bit of brick and mortar can’t fix. Once we can move people away from their farming duties for a bit, I’m confident we will have this sorted out eventually,” he said with a shrug, and she marveled at the fact that they were there, Yennefer and Jaskier, talking about brick and mortar. It’s bizarre enough to almost make her laugh, and she couldn’t remember the last time she felt that urge. </p>
<p>“But I wanted to ask you about magical protections, about possibly building them into the fortifications. The outer walls, once repaired would be all well and good for a regular estate, but for a witcher estate hosting an escaped princess, this close to old Cintra and Nilfgaard’s new stronghold?” </p>
<p>“A spell of protection would last a few years and be vulnerable if another mage arrived, but if I weaved in the protection... Aretuza was built by elven magic, and they built protections into the very foundations. I know some sorcerers who have studied their work. I should be able to get my hands on their research. That would take time though.” Yennefer mused, the different possibilities swirling in her mind. </p>
<p>“Based on the current situation with the war, and how you and Geralt plan to go forward, in your opinion, do we have time to wait for the best options, or should we start with the spells?”</p>
<p>“I will look into it. It will take me some time to find an answer, but the recent battle drained me, and I won't have the magic necessary for protection spells for a while yet,” she reluctantly replied, hating to admit such a weakness. </p>
<p>“Then I’ll wait for you to do some preliminary research while you recuperate. Inform me when you have a proposition, and we can create a plan.” Jaskier had always been a confident man, too confident about his own charms, in Yennefer’s opinion. This quiet confidence was a new side to him however, and she wondered if he was aware of the easy authority he carried as he spoke. </p>
<p>“Let’s head back to the manor. This day is far too warm, and I believe Cirilla should be bored and in need of rescuing just about now. ”</p>
<p>Cirilla came running towards them as they reached the courtyard, and she leaped at them Jaskier caught her and spun her round and round, while she laughed in delight. Yennefer couldn't remember the last time it was safe for her to run around like this, when she or Geralt didn’t have to keep such a close eye on Ciri that she felt suffocated. It was five years since Cintra fell, a short time for her, but for Ciri… well, it was good to see her feeling safe.</p>
<p>“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?” Yennefer questioned her, raising an eyebrow in mock seriousness.</p>
<p>“Vesemir is so boring! He was supposed to be teaching me about monsters, but all he talked about was <em>grain</em>!” </p>
<p>“But grains <em>are</em> interesting, did you know we’ve planted oats now?” Jaskier objected enthusiastically, then shook his head in disbelief at his own words, mouthing to himself. “Oh dear Gods, who have I become?” </p>
<p>Once he recovered from the shock, he raised his voice and proclaimed. “But hardly a fun subject matter for young Cirilla, so why don’t we see if we can’t make the cooks prepare your favorite dessert for supper, hmm? And then you and Yennefer can make a list of all the items you need for your stay and education here, so that we might better prepare for it next?”</p>
<p>Yennefer didn’t miss how happy Jaskier’s words made Ciri, and she soon turned pleading eyes towards Yennefer.</p>
<p>Jaskier was soon pulled away to other matters, but Yennefer and Ciri had no plans for the day, so they ended up taking a walk around the estate. Signs of recent hardship were still there, of course, but instead of scores of homeless sitting in the courtyard, it now hosted a modest market, where Yennefer bought Ciri some powdered donuts as they looked around. </p>
<p>“How were you able to organise this?” Yennefer asked a tradeswoman selling jewelry and other knick knacks.</p>
<p>“Master Julian, he gave us all small loans so we could get back on our feet,” she replied. “And he is organising a small caravan to go to Graviken in a few weeks, so that we may buy supplies and sell our wares at the markets there. Times have been hard, m'Lady, but with the Gods’ fortune, things might be looking up again.” </p>
<p>“May the Gods bless you,” Yennefer replied absent-mindedly, buying a few trinkets she didn’t need from the stalls. </p>
<p>She and Ciri ate their donuts on a piece of grass overlooking the farms and the town, looking at the people working, children laughing. Vaasa had been nothing but a drain, a nightmare they couldn’t figure out how to escape from, but now with help from the least likely person on the Continent, she was looking at something that could perhaps become a home and a safe haven for them.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you liked this chapter, I had fun writing Yennefer's pov (a first for me) and I look forward to exploring how Yennefer and Jaskier’s friendship grows :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An enormous thank you to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider">dragon_rider</a> for helping me! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>“Master Julian! Master Julian!” Mattias, Hanna's son who Jaskier had taken in as an errand boy so that he could have something to do during the days, ran in shouted as he threw open the door to Jaskier’s study, abruptly putting an end to a rather pleasant nap. </p>
<p>“...” A yawn interrupted Jaskier, but at his second attempt he managed to ask. “What’s wrong, Mattias?”</p>
<p>“The witchers have returned!” Mattias exclaimed pointing towards the window, and sure enough, once Jaskier got up to look out, there they were by the stables. </p>
<p>Jaskier didn’t know if it was the abrupt awakening, or something else, but he felt slightly wrongfooted. He gave himself a physical shake in an attempt to rid himself of the strange feeling, before turning back to Mattias. </p>
<p>“It’s past supper, but go and ask Hanna if the cooks can prepare some food for the witchers, then tell Aino to start heating up the bathwater and to mentally prepare for some very disgusting visitors, and... that should be all, then you can head back to your mother,” Jaskier instructed as they both started to make their way down the stairs, Jaskier desperately trying to finger comb his hair and hoping his face wasn’t creased from his nap. </p>
<p>They made quite the sight, the returning witchers; dressed in armour, caked with dried blood. The stable boy had taken their horses, but Jaskier could see how the people around had backed away, gone silent. When they spotted him arriving in the courtyard they stared in fear, eyes flitting between Jaskier and the witchers. <em>They'd had three bloody fights in not even two years</em>, Jaskier thought, <em>and the witchers left at first light a day after my arrival. The people here have no idea what their return means for me or them</em>. </p>
<p>“You’ve returned!” he shouted, perhaps overdoing it a tad on the enthusiasm. “Victorious! Come, leave your horses to this young man’s good care, and come inside for some well-earned rest.” </p>
<p>He got bemused looks of surprise from the exhausted group of witchers, who shrugged amongst themselves and started to follow him inside. As they passed he could see the people around them breathe out in relief at the confirmation that no fighting would commence. </p>
<p>He wanted nothing more than to go over and embrace Geralt, but Cirilla came running out followed by both Yennefer and Eskel, and Jaskier doubted Geralt would have time for him until the next day at the earliest. He knew as well, that he by all rights didn’t have the time either, most likely the witchers had brought a number of new concerns with them that he would need to deal with. He should try to eat and rest and be as ready as possible tomorrow. </p>
<p>They all trailed to the kitchens together, the cooks wrangling up some bread and making porridge for them. Jaskier enjoyed the kitchens at night, the room was always warm and smelling of bread and herbs, some evenings he simply liked to sneak down to gossip, and Hanna always left some bread and butter on the counter in case someone, well, Jaskier worked too late and needed a late-night nibble. But the witchers weren’t relaxing, they were sitting there tense and silent as they ate their food. If Ciri and Jaskier had hoped for interesting tales of battles and adventures at the witchers' return, they were to be disappointed. The victorious group was anything but celebratory; they were exhausted, drawn and much thinner than when they had left, and any attempt to get them to be cheerful was quickly put down. </p>
<p>Maybe a few weeks past Jaskier would have been up to the task of forcing cheer on that cantankerous bunch, but he had not slept well all week; worry about drought keeping him up at night. They had mobilised the whole estate for the harvest, but if it didn’t rain soon it would all be for nought...</p>
<p>Dear Melitele, who had he become, surrounded by handsome men with an unimaginable number of stories between them, and he couldn't stop thinking about the bloody rain. If his father saw him now… Gods but he wished he could see his father now, and ask how he was managing. Speaking of the Goddess, he kept forgetting to organise the restoration of Melitele’s shrine, if it didn’t get done soon the farmers were sure to start blaming the Gods’ anger, and him for provoking it, and that was the last thing they needed... </p>
<p>“Jaskier? Jaskier,” Eskel said, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle shake. “I think it might be time for us all to retire for the night, don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Wise advice, Eskel. My bed certainly calls to me, and I can only imagine how tired our returning heroes are,” Jaskier yawned, pushing his chair back and rising from the table, prompting the rest of the company to get to their feet. </p>
<p>As Lambert was passing him, he heard him muttering to Coën, “Heroes, huh. How heroic is it to put even more people under our care, when we can't even manage the first bunch?”  </p>
<p>“I’m not certain, but Geralt must have a plan, surely?” Coën whispered in reply.</p>
<p>What reply Lambert might have had, Jaskier didn’t hear, as his attention drifted to Geralt, whose shoulders had tightened at Lambert’s words. He saw Eskel give the back of Lambert’s head a smack and mutter something Jaskier’s ears couldn’t catch. </p>
<p>He started to take a step in Geralt’s direction, but then there was Yennefer with a hand at his elbow, and Jaskier decided that tomorrow might afford him a better opportunity to speak with his old friend. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The new morning did not grant him that opportunity, as his own schedule was rather packed. He needed to commission one of the woodworkers to craft new statues of Melitele, and while he tried to keep an eye out for Geralt as he went about his business, it seemed his company was highly sought after. Both Yennefer and Eskel were giving him tours of the estate. Which was all well and good, just that if anyone was to manage the handover of duties, it really should have been him. But no matter, there was always work to keep him distracted. </p>
<p>He had written many songs praising a blue sky, he thought with a sigh, as the sun's rays and the beautiful view mocked him from where he stood on the castle courtyard. His next song would be an ode to rain, he promised himself. </p>
<p>Feeling a bit restless, Jaskier allowed himself a walk around the estate, taking the time for some small talk with the people he encountered. He was glad for the everyday complaints of bad backs and forgotten anniversaries that were shared with him. It meant their complaints were once more of the normal humdrum of life. He probably shouldn’t have smiled so much though. </p>
<p>His mother and father had known all of the people residing in Lettenhove, and while Jaskier didn’t know how long he’d stay in Vaasa, he remembered his father telling him of the importance of knowing, and being known, to the people you served, and who served you. He’d have to bring Ciri with him next time, he thought, she needed to get to know these people as well. </p>
<p>He waved to Vesemir and the stonemason, who were busy walking along the outer wall, calculating the materials needed for the repairs. People continued to talk to him as he slowly made his way around, and as he made it to the farms he got to enjoy the sight of Coën and Lambert being surrounded by the farmers' kids and poking around with them in the newly planted soil. They looked curious and like they were enjoying themselves, so Jaskier left them to it. </p>
<p>The walk had settled him, and he allowed his feet to steer him towards his office once more. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Enter,” Jaskier murmured absent-mindedly when he heard a knock on the door, and to his delight, it was Geralt who walked in. </p>
<p>“I thought I wouldn’t get a chance to talk to you before supper, old friend,” he said with a smile, starting to rise from his chair, but Geralt gestured for him to remain seated. </p>
<p>“Yennefer, Eskel, and Vesemir all cornered me,” Geralt said in a low voice as he entered the room. “They were eager to tell me or show me what you had achieved while I was away.”</p>
<p>“They talked to you about <em>me</em>?” Jaskier asked in surprise.</p>
<p>“Yes. Eskel walked me through everything you’ve done while I was away, Vesemir went on about grains. Yennefer, well, she said that with you managing this estate, it’d be safe for her to settle here permanently with Ciri.” Geralt said, speaking slowly as he took a seat opposite Jaskier, looking at him in a way he never had before. Jaskier had no idea what to make of it.</p>
<p>“I certainly didn’t put them up to sing my praises, if I had I would have had them actually sing them. Why would they all decide to do that?” Jaskier asked, perplexed. </p>
<p>“They seemed to be harbouring under the fear that now that I’ve returned I’d manage to drive you away, or want to take over,” Geralt replied, face revealed nothing of what he was thinking. </p>
<p>“Well, don’t you?” Jaskier asked, “Lord Geralt?”</p>
<p>“No, not if I have a choice,” Geralt replied, now more serious. “Do I have a choice, Jaskier?”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“I have no right to ask, but I will anyway,” Geralt sighed, looking Jaskier in the eyes, “would you stay as lord of the estate?”</p>
<p>“You want me to take over running this place?” Jaskier asked in surprise. “Not Eskel or Yennefer?”</p>
<p>“You, yes. Look what you’ve done in such a short time, Jaskier. This place was near ruin because of me-, no don’t interrupt and don’t lie.” Geralt ordered, standing up and walking towards Jaskier’s chair. Where he, to Jaskier’s shock, knelt down and took Jaskier’s hands in his. “I wanted to make things right, to keep everyone safe, but every decision I took had the opposite effect. I tried to pretend that I had some control of the situation, but I didn’t.” Geralt paused, taking a deep breath to gather his bearings.</p>
<p>“My brothers have been fighting with no end in sight, Cirilla has been fleeing for years with no moment of safety, and Yennefer spends half her time in hiding and the other fighting. I’ve brought the people here nothing but death and poverty. I thought if I fought I’d have the power to protect everyone. Instead, I just had more people to protect, and I couldn’t see a way out of it, Jaskier.”</p>
<p>Geralt’s hands squeezed Jaskier’s tightly, his tone urgent as he finally allowed himself to voice the fears he had likely been keeping to himself for years. “And then you came, Jaskier, and I look around at this place and see people being taken care of; I see them healthy and thriving. I see Yennefer and Eskel able to relax, and I see Ciri, safe and smiling and with a place to call home.”</p>
<p>“With you leading, I wouldn’t have to make the decisions. I could follow you and know that what I’m doing is right.”Geralt looked into his eyes and asked, “Will you stay?”</p>
<p>Did Jaskier want to stay? The truth of it was that a part of him yearned to. He had never given any thought to running an estate, but to his surprise, he found that he didn’t dislike the work. In the end, it came down to caring for people and trying to help them, and he couldn’t deny the warmth it brought him. Then there was Geralt’s family, who he had already come to care for a great deal. He had been on the road for almost thirty years, and he couldn’t deny that it was tempting to settle down for a while. </p>
<p>“I will stay, Geralt, for as long as you need me,” Jaskier replied, feeling the weight of the promise settling on his shoulders. </p>
<p>At those words Geralt bent forward and put his head on Jaskier’s lap, slumping as if the strings that had been holding him up had been cut. As if he could count on Jaskier to catch him, and bear his weight.</p>
<p>At first, Jaskier’s hands hovered in the air, unsure, until he gently put his hand on the back of Geralt’s neck, and held on. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An enormous thank you to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider">dragon_rider</a> for helping me! And Lady Nogs for patiently answering all my questions about taxes!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They stayed like that for a long time. Jaskier gently stroked Geralt’s hair as he rested his head upon Jaskier’s lap. After a while Jaskier, while keeping a hand firmly placed on Geralt’s neck, bent forward slightly and continued reviewing the numbers Vesemir had put together. </p>
<p>To have any hope of collecting enough to pay the king's tax, they would have to increase the wheat yields the farmers normally produced by over a quarter. Even if the harvest went off without a hitch, that ship had sailed. Jaskier had already made the decision to cut taxes this year, to give the people here a chance to recover and feed themselves properly. Winter would soon approach and he wanted to ensure they would be able to sustain themselves. </p>
<p>He had been expecting these news, but the knowledge weighed heavily on him. They would need to find some other way of appeasing the king when he made contact with their estate, but Jaskier didn’t know what yet. Jaskier couldn’t help but fret about the future, but Geralt’s solid presence on his lap made it easier to breathe out. He might be the one making the decisions now, but he wasn’t alone. </p>
<p>As Geralt didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave, they stayed like that, with Geralt resting on his knees with his head in Jaskier’s lap, the slow rhythm of his breaths soothing Jaskier as he worked. They must have sat there for hours, the sun had set when they heard a knock on the door. Like a bucket of water, it roused them suddenly out of the trance they had fallen into, and Jaskier watched as Geralt sprang to his feet and moved to the other side of the room. Then, seemingly aware that standing with his back plastered to the wall wasn’t quite normal either, he frowned. </p>
<p>“Come in,” Jaskier called, forcing his mind into the present again.</p>
<p>The door was flung open to reveal Lambert, who came bursting into the room. “Yennefer told me to collect you for dinner, as if I’m nothing more than an errand boy,” he groused, though it seemed more for show than due to any real bitterness. “Geralt, didn’t see you there,” he added when Geralt tried to subtly move into the middle of the room. </p>
<p>“You seem to be in a better mood today, Lambert,” Jaskier remarked as they all left the study and descended towards the dining area. </p>
<p>“I’ve been washed and fed, and no one is trying to kill me, so things are looking up, Buttercup. Now all I need is a good fuck and all will be right in the world,” he replied with a self-satisfied smirk. </p>
<p>“Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a good fuck,” Jaskier replied mournfully as he realised his stint in Vaasa was probably the longest stretch of time he had gone without someone to warm his bed. “But if that’s what you are craving, why don’t you accompany our caravan to Graviken? I promised the merchants I’d organise one as soon as I could secure an escort,” Jaskier suggested to Lambert.</p>
<p>“You have yourself a deal!” Lambert threw an arm around him, “They have good whorehouses in Graviken. You should join, I’ll even let you have the first pick!” </p>
<p>“True generosity there! You, good sir, are a first class friend, though I’ll sadly have to decline,” he replied, and the words that left his mouth caused him such a shock that he would have frozen on the spot if Lambert hadn't steered him forward. “I couldn’t possibly leave right now, there is simply too much to sort out and I won’t rest until the rain arrives, and I know our harvest is safe.” </p>
<p>He looked at Geralt helplessly, who looked just as shocked. They might both have accepted that Jaskier had taken on this responsibility well, but this was at another level completely. Maybe he <em>should</em> go with Lambert to Graviken, actually, because this couldn’t be healthy. But just as the thought entered his mind he dismissed it, he was needed here, and he wanted to be here.</p>
<p>It seemed as if everyone had made it to supper that evening, and looked to be in good spirits to Jaskier’s delight. As Lambert and Geralt seated themselves, Jaskier noticed that the seat at the head of the table had been left empty for him to fill, and he wondered if it was intentional, or an accident. </p>
<p>The moment he sat down, the food was brought out, and the mood could not have been more different from the previous night when the witchers had arrived dour and angry. Today they were sharing stories when Jaskier or Cirilla asked, or asking questions in turn, seemingly endlessly curious about the estate and the farms. </p>
<p>When the food was cleared, Geralt raised his arm and held up his mead, and looking Jaskier in the eyes, he said “To Lord Julian.”</p>
<p>In one voice, as if they had planned this, the whole table raised their glasses and echoed with, “Lord Julian.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-----</p>
<p>Almost everyone attended breakfast together the next morning to Jaskier's pleasure. Large meals surrounded by friends and family were something he always missed while out on the road. It might not be his family, and they might not quite yet all fit together, but he had hope they’d get there. </p>
<p>Once he had his fill he rose from the table with Eskel rising to leave with him, as had become customary in the past months. Then Geralt rose as well, looking at Jaskier with an expectant air, as if hoping for direction.</p>
<p>Jaskier faltered for a moment before he spoke, wondering if Geralt would accept taking orders from him. “Geralt, if you could assist Vesemir, please. He has begun our population count, since we must update our records. After lunch, find Yennefer and come to my office. We need to discuss the territory you claimed.”</p>
<p>With a tilt of his head and glint in his eye Geralt responded with a teasing smile as he said, “As you say, my Lord,” before walking away to carry out Jaskier’s instructions. </p>
<p><em>Oh dear</em>, Jaskier thought, <em>that was different</em>. But then Eskel cleared his throat, and thoughts of Geralt’s behaviour had to be put aside. He had to go on a bit of a field trip this morning, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.</p>
<p>Jaskier had never considered himself religious; even in times of fear it was not Gods he turned to, but he had seen enough of the Continent to understand and respect the importance of faith for those who believed in the Gods. If he was to be their lord, he needed to do everything in his power to make life better for the people here, and that included putting their minds at ease, showing them that he took their concerns seriously. </p>
<p>The estate wasn’t large enough to host a temple for Melitele. But it used to have shrines, that the self-named baron had torn down during his short reign, which Jaskier had arranged to be restored. Vesemir had found out that they had a midwife in Vaasa who had trained in one of Melitele’s temples, and Jaskier and Eskel were on their way towards her house. </p>
<p>As they dismounted and tied their horses to a tree just outside her property, the midwife stepped out to greet them. Her age and profession had given her a no nonsense air, and if she had any concerns about their visit, she let nothing of it show, frowning at them as they approached. Had she not been a priestess, she would have been just the type of person Jaskier would have loved to tease and jest with, in the hopes of eventually being rewarded with a reluctant smile. Now wasn’t the time however, and he kept his focus on the reason he was there.</p>
<p>“Good morn, Halle,” Jaskier greeted her. “I hope we are not intruding.”</p>
<p>“I suppose the lord that claimed this place can go where he so pleases,” came her tart reply. “And which of you is to be my new lord?”</p>
<p>“That would be Lord Julian,” Eskel calmly replied, with a nod towards Jaskier. </p>
<p>“I may be your lord, but this is your house and property, and you will never be forced to invite anyone you do not desire inside. You have my word.”</p>
<p>Halle looked silently at them both, assessing them, before finally replying with just a small nod of her head, not looking particularly impressed. A woman used to putting action over words, Jaskier assumed. </p>
<p>“We shan’t be long, good lady, but our matter is quite urgent.” Jaskier said, getting to the point. “We’ve just been to speak to Ulf, and Melitele’s shrines will be restored and put back to their rightful places. You informed my friend Vesemir that you had trained at one of Melitele’s temples, and I am here to ask if you’d consent to gracing the shrines with your prayers, and then following us to pray over the fields.”</p>
<p>“Are you a religious man, Lord Julian?” Halle asked. </p>
<p>“I am not, you won’t be seeing me much at the shrines,” Jaskier replied truthfully. “But the people here are, and they deserve to have their places of worship restored in a respectful manner. Can I count on you to lead the prayers?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Halle turned a shrewd eye on both him and Eskel, silently assessing them. Finally, she said, “Have Ulf’s son come find me when the shrines are up and I’ll do my praying.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, dear Halle!” Jaskier said with a clap of his hands, “I’d love to stay and chat more but I fear me and Eskel here must be off. I wish you a good day!” he continued as he swiftly mounted his horse. </p>
<p>Once they were out of earshot, Jaskier breathed out.  </p>
<p>“I may be an adult now, but priestesses; no one can quite match them in judgement I don’t think. Mages and kings wish they had half the intimidation of a priestesses of Melitele, whoh,” Jaskier laughed. “You’d think worshipers of fertility and I would get on quite well, but somehow they never warm to me.” </p>
<p>“I’m not so sure your promiscuity and the concept of fertility are as closely linked as you seem to think,” Eskel snorted at him, breaking into a smile at Jaskier’s offended expression. “Unless there is a brood somewhere that you’ve been hiding.”</p>
<p>“No little heirs for me just yet.” Jaskier confirmed with a laugh. “Truth be told, I don’t think I’ll ever have children of my own. It’s never quite been my ambition to become a father.”</p>
<p>“No plans on continuing your name?” Eskel asked with surprise.</p>
<p>“My father's name is plenty secure,” Jaskier said with a fond smile, thinking of Jakub’s and Astrid's children and how they always ran up to greet him when he visited, wondering if Juliana would have some of her own now as well. He’d write to them soon he told himself guiltily, and let them know he was safe. </p>
<p>“And your own name?” Eskel persisted, to Jaskier’s surprise. </p>
<p>“The name of Jaskier the Bard I believe will be remembered for some time still, and I hope the songs and their messages for longer. But that is out of my control. Why all the questions, Eskel? Not that I mind, friend, but it’s unlike you.”</p>
<p>They rode along in silence as Eskel gathered his words, eventually saying, “I think of the future of this place, and who will take over from you.” </p>
<p>“I assumed it would be Ciri?” Jaskier asked, confused. “Once she is old enough, of course. I was going to suggest to Geralt and Yennefer having her join me soon, to start teaching her how to care for an estate.”</p>
<p>“She isn’t your daughter, you would be within your rights to-” Eskel started to say, before Jaskier interrupted him with a wave of his hand. </p>
<p>“I’m not here to build my legacy or to secure an estate for myself. I came, and I stayed, to help. Once this place is running smoothly and Ciri is of age, it's her’s, if she so wishes, and I once again pick up my lute.” Jaskier mused, before sighing. “Now, let us head back inside and talk politics, dear. We’ve postponed it long enough.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer, Geralt and Vesemir were waiting for them when they arrived, and once they had all greeted each other, Jaskier turned to Eskel and asked. “Do we have a-, ah, excellent, just what I needed,” as Eskel collected a map of the region and rolled it out over the desk. </p>
<p>“Geralt, walk us through where you fought, and what territories you’ve claimed,” Jaskier requested, trying in vain to find a quill on his mess of a desk, and letting out a pleased noise when Eskel thrust one into Geralt’s hand. </p>
<p>Geralt stared at them in silence for a while, before he bent over the map and marked where they had fought. </p>
<p>“Lord Ferdinand is the Viscount of Salsburg, and he has a son and a daughter. Were they all there? And is anyone with them now?” Jaskier asked, deep in thought. </p>
<p>“We sent away his daughter, but both his son and father are alive and in the castle. Triss and Derrym, a griffin witcher, stayed behind.”</p>
<p>“Lady Johanna will be on her way to the king's court I expect, and soon the late lord Adelcrantz’s children should make their way there as well, to protest our presence on their father’s lands.” Jaskier frowned. “Salsburg produces most of the region's salt, meaning it’s valuable territory, and important to the king… we might hear from the king soon.” Jaskier noted, tapping the map absent-mindedly. “But first, Salsburg needs to be dealt with. Yennefer, did you formalise anything before you left?”</p>
<p>“They acknowledged their defeat.” Yennefer replied.</p>
<p>“In writing?”</p>
<p>“Yes. But that was all,” she confirmed.</p>
<p>“You left them essentially in house arrest with only two people guarding them?” Jaskier frowned.</p>
<p>“They are no match for Triss and Derrym,” Vesemir commented. </p>
<p>“While true, how long until they try anyway? We’ve not left them in a very dignified position, held prisoners in their own home. The loyalty of their staff will make them overly confident, and that will be more blood on our hands.” Jaskier frowned, starting to pace the room. </p>
<p>“What do you suggest?” Vesemir asked. </p>
<p>“Was the plan to cling to this territory or to claim more land?” Jaskier asked, looking at Yennefer and Geralt. </p>
<p>“We didn’t sit down and plan as such.” Geralt admitted. “When we found out they were planning to attack, we marched.”</p>
<p>“Well, then we need to plan now. Because it will determine our next actions.”</p>
<p>“How so?” Eskel asked. </p>
<p>“If we simply defend our claim over these lands, we agree on terms of surrender with the Viscount, walk away richer and leave their lands,” Jaskier said. “They had to attack you, the Viscount is a cousin to the Adelcrantz’s, they were honorbound to act. You defeated them, they pay, we leave.”</p>
<p>“That seems simple enough,” Vesemir said. “What’s the other option?”</p>
<p>“If you-”</p>
<p>“We, Jaskier,” Geralt interjected. </p>
<p>“If we claim Salsburg as a vassal city… well, we’d have a territory stretching from Brokilon to the east of yaruga. The yaruga would make us less vulnerable, should we be attacked. However... ”</p>
<p>“Out with it, Bard,” Yennefer said, but while her voice might have sounded snappish to him before, now it seemed strangely empathetic. As if this was her way of getting him to rip open the bandaid. </p>
<p>“Overthrowing one lord, well, that happens, but two? By making a city our vassal. I’d be-, well, I mean, obviously not quite yet, but if we continued, I’d be a-,”</p>
<p>“You’d become a warlord,” Yennefer said, matter of factly. “If we started on such a path, you’d become a warlord of the east.”</p>
<p>“Verden isn’t a large country, the king will be forced to act if we claim more land than this, and by act, I mean war. Laying claim to Salsburg since we have control over it now is tempting, and I won't deny it’s strategic advances, but their loyalty would disintegrate into mist once the king was at our door and we’d be alone against the king's army.”</p>
<p>“You have two mages and witchers, Jaskier, don’t underestimate what we can do for you.” Yennefer said, eyes sparkling at the challenge. </p>
<p>“I don’t underestimate the power you hold, but Verden could reach out to the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, and we are close enough to the border of Brugge that they might lend their support in squashing us down, to avoid the risk of us claiming their lands.”</p>
<p>“Your decision is to negotiate their surrender then?” At Jaskiers nod, she continued. “I’ll portal there tomorrow and begin negotiations in your name. If that’s all?” Yennfer asked, rising and sweeping confidently out of the room, her black and white dress trailing dramatically after her. </p>
<p>Eskel rolled up the map and he and Vesemir left soon after. Jaskier drifted towards the window, though it was more out of habit than a desire to look outside. His thoughts were buzzing so loudly he was blind to anything else. </p>
<p>A moment later, Geralt moved to stand behind him. Close enough that Jaskier could feel the heat from his body, but not touching. Suddenly all Jaskier wanted was to lean back and feel the solid warmth of Geralt at his back. </p>
<p>“Just like that?” Jaskier asked. “You are all just willing to follow my word, just like that?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Geralt replied, and Jaskier drew in a deep breath, at a loss for words. “I meant what I said yesterday. You are our lord, and we will follow you.” </p>
<p>After a moment's pause he continued, “If Yennefer thinks you’re wrong, she won't hesitate to tell you, Jaskier, don’t be afraid to lean on us in return.” </p>
<p>Jaskier let out a surprised laugh at the relief he felt at hearing Yennefer would be there to question him, and then he had a bit of a hysterical giggle about the event’s of the past hour, and the types of decisions he was now called on to make. Geralt stood silently and steady at his back the whole time. Now achingly tired, all he wanted was to lean back and let Geralt carry his weight for a moment. And so he did, closing his eyes and tilting his head back; he leaned back slightly as Geralt moved forward to meet him halfway. </p>
<p>It was only early afternoon, and soon Hanna would be at his door, chastising him for not coming down for lunch and bringing him bread and soup, which he’d eat while hunched over his documents. But for the moment, it was just him and Geralt, and the knowledge that Geralt would hold him up when he wavered. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dinner that night was once again a cheery affair. The witchers were in high spirits and even Yennefer seemed relaxed that evening. Once they had all eaten and began to disperse, Jaskier grabbed an unopened wine bottle and turned to Yennefer. “Dear mage, would you and Geralt join me for a drink outside?”</p>
<p>Yennefer inclined her head in acceptance, and swept out of the room with Jaskier and Geralt following her. </p>
<p>They made their way to the castle gardens, a place once lovely and well cared for, at the moment quite overgrown due to lack of care. But for once Jaskier didn’t look at it as one more place to fix, and just allowed himself to enjoy the flowers and the night sky. </p>
<p>Perhaps he got a bit lost in them, for Geralt softly pushed him forward, and they joined Yennefer on the stone benches. </p>
<p>“Apparently I’m sticking around for a while,” Jaskier broke the silence, smiling at Yennefer’s look of impatience. She never was one for setting up a story, “and I wanted to talk to you both about Cirilla. How old is she now?”</p>
<p>“Ciri is fifteen,” Geralt replied in a questioning tone.</p>
<p>“My father trained us all in managing an estate, but Jakub, the future Viscount de Lettenhove, he trained from the age of six,” Jaskier started to explain. “I’d like to suggest that Cirilla joins me for one day per week, to learn from me.”</p>
<p>His father had given each of his children a day of his week, where he’d bring them along to any matters he had to attend, explaining them as he went along and asking for their opinion. It had always made Jaskier feel very special; he remembered how he always insisted on dressing sharply, always up early and ready for his father to come pick him up to start their day together. </p>
<p>“Ciri already has her studies, more than a girl should have, and we can barely get her to attend them,” Geralt replied.</p>
<p>“We’re behind on her magical training, circumstances before were too volatile, and I believe Vesemir feels the same of her witcher training.” Yennefer interjected. </p>
<p>“I understand that, but she is only a few years away from adulthood. If she is to take over this estate, she needs to know how to govern, needs to see and understand the daily troubles and needs of her people. I don’t pretend to guess where her future will lead, I’m not someone to whom destiny speaks to, but if she will one day lead Cintra, she should know how to govern. Magic and fighting is important, but there is more to leadership than brute force.” </p>
<p>A thoughtful silence greeted him, until Yennefer spoke, “I’ll talk with Vesemir, we’ll arrange for the time.”</p>
<p>“Could it wait until autumn?” Geralt asked. “This is the first time she has been safe since Cintra, and she deserves some time to rest, to be a child.”</p>
<p>There was no way that Jaskier could refuse such a request, heart softening for Ciri and all she had been through, though he knew they couldn’t afford to wait much longer. </p>
<p>“Certainly,” Jaskier murmured, drinking the wine and looking at the stars while Yennefer and Geralt attempted to have a silent conversation next to him, consisting of Geralt’s confused expressions and Yennefer’s impatient frowns, until she must have have had enough and simply entered his mind, based on Geralt’s offended appearance. He did so hate mind reading. While a moment such as this would have filled him with jealousy a few years past, now it just amused him to watch his two companions make faces at each other. They were about as subtle as he was when he dressed in lilacs. </p>
<p>“You’d name Cirilla as your successor?” Geralt finally asked.</p>
<p>“Yes, or I’d name myself as custodian, take care of the estate in her name until she reaches maturity,” Jaskier replied thoughtfully. “I’d have gone for custodian in normal circumstances, but I’m not sure how far and wide you want to announce her presence here?”</p>
<p>“If you are the custodian, how long until Ciri would be expected to rule?”</p>
<p>“Well, there is no set date. Traditionally,” Jaskier said with a grimace, “upon her marriage to a suitable lord, and she is already of an age to marry. But I see no reason for us to uphold such structures. So, any time after her eighteenth year would be appropriate. As a custodian I might stay for a year to aid the transition, but after I’d leave it in her hands. ”</p>
<p>“There would be a target on her back if we announced that.” Yennefer stated. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We do not know if Ciri desires to be the lady of an estate.” Geralt added.</p>
<p>Jaskier gave a sympathetic hum as he listened, suggesting. “If I name her my successor, we can give her a bit more time to decide on her future.”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure if destiny will afford Ciri with much choice,” Yennefer said, “the elder blood in her veins, the Nilfgaardians, the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, the kings and queens of the Continent and their schemes and intrigues… they all have designs on her, and would descend upon us the moment we announced her claim of this land. It’s a nice little fantasy, her the lady of an estate, safe and sound. But that may be all it is, fantasy.”</p>
<p>Silence descended upon them, growing gloomier by the second, and in response, Jaskier abandoned his wine glass in favour of taking a drink straight from the wine bottle, before spreading his arms out wide and falling backwards into the overgrown grass. </p>
<p>“Ow,” he complained, making grabby hands for the bottle, but the other two just rudely stared at him. “What you just said sounds terribly complicated, and I’m but a simple creature, so I suppose that I’ll just get on with things. Cirilla will be my successor, but we will keep that between us for now, because that’s the safest option, and when she reaches maturity she can decide what she wants for herself. And if an enemy of hers comes to our door, we will deal with them then. But not tonight, tonight I shall get quite drunk and you are welcome to either join me or piss off and brood in an attractive fashion elsewhere.” Jaskier grandly declared, finishing with a wave of his arm that just ended with it flopping into the dirt, “The lord has spoken.”</p>
<p>Geralt gave a loud snort at that, but he did move from the bench to the ground, taking a pull from the bottle before handing it to Yennefer, who poured the wine into her glass, like the spoilsport she was. But Jaskier quickly forgave her, as she reached out and held the bottle just above his mouth, letting it pour into his mouth when he raised himself up on his elbows, tipping the neck of the bottle down, and letting him lap at the mouth of the bottle.  </p>
<p>Geralt drew in a breath so loud it almost sounded like a gasp, which seemed to put Yennefer in a teasing mood, as she pulled back slightly and teased the cool end of the bottle against Jaskier’s wine stained lips, not letting any wine pour out until Jaskier turned pleading eyes on her and made a beseeching noise. </p>
<p>Jaskier was feeling rather wonderful, he was slightly inebriated and feeling playful with no idea what was about to happen next, which was one his favorite states of being. </p>
<p>When he felt something wet fall onto his nose, his first thought was that Yennefer must have gone a bit enthusiastic on the wine, but when more liquid fell he opened his eye further, and to his astonishment, he could see drops of rain falling from the sky. </p>
<p>“Rain!” he shouted in astonishment, surprising his two companions as he sprang up to his feet and threw his arms out wide “Rain!”</p>
<p>The rain began to really pour down from the sky and he was spinning around and laughing, delirious with relief, as his companions watched on in bemusement. Suddenly the garden doors were thrown open and Eskel came running out, looking as excited as Jaskier felt. </p>
<p>“Rain!” They both shouted, and then Jaskier’s inebriated state and the spinning caught up with him and he fell into Eskel’s arms, giving him an excited hug while the witcher did his best to hold Jaskier upright.  </p>
<p>Jaskier didn’t remember much more about the following hours, snippets of lying on the ground as it got muddy and his silks were being absolutely destroyed, but somehow never getting cold or feeling wet, drinking more wine until he fell asleep surrounded by his friends.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It rained :D <br/><a href="https://thedaywasnew.tumblr.com/">I’m on tumblr if you want to say hi!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An enormous thank you to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider">dragon_rider</a>! Thank you so much for helping me!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yennefer and Geralt were waiting to escort him to Salsburg, to agree on and sign the terms of their surrender with the Viscount. Everything had been negotiated via letters with Triss as a go-between, and his visit was nothing but a formality. But that didn't mean this was a simple affair; Jaskier was more than aware that this would be his first public appearance as a lord of the lands they claimed, as Lord Julian of Vaasa. As head of an estate filled with humans and witchers and mages.</p><p>Jaskier knew about court intrigues and gossip, knew that word of their estate had spread already. It wasn’t the first time witchers had fought in human affairs: before the destruction of their school, cat witchers had been known to accept human contracts. But those were more comparable to a mercenary’s contract. No one had heard of witchers serving a lord. </p><p>Jaskier was dressed in only his dressing gown as he ran his hand over his silk doublets, which he had bought two years ago to dress a bard with a love of colourful things. Not quite befitting of his new station or the expectations people would have for such a lord. </p><p>“I like the blue,” a voice spoke over his shoulder. Jaskier hadn’t heard Geralt come in, and he felt slightly self-conscious about being caught fretting about his clothing when he had much larger concerns. Geralt had never understood the importance of presentation, and he must think Jaskier was silly to fret about it now. </p><p>“I fear I shall look quite silly,” Jaskier sighed, fingers still restlessly tracing over the sleeve of his doublet. “They’ve met you all, fearsome and fierce, and now here I come…”</p><p>“You like your clothes,” Geralt stated, and Jaskier knew that if he turned to face him, he would most likely see him frowning in confusion.</p><p>“I do,” Jaskier agreed, gesturing forlornly at himself. “But they hardly represent the fearsome or serious lord I'm supposed to be now.”</p><p>“You don’t have to be fearsome,” As he spoke, Geralt nudged Jaskier’s shoulder to get him to turn around. “You have me-, us for that. Your strengths, Jaskier, are different. I might have been slow in showing appreciation for them, but know that I do. That we all do. It’s why we chose you to lead us.”</p><p>Jaskier couldn’t do anything but stare at Geralt in surprise, as he stepped around Jaskier and took his blue doublet and trousers from his wardrobe, walking around the room gathering his chemise and socks and placing them all on the bed. </p><p>“The blue brings out the colour of your eyes. I’d be honoured if you wore it today, my Lord.” Geralt said, looking into Jaskier’s eyes, the sincerity of his voice surprised Jaskier. He left the room without waiting for an answer, leaving Jaskier in a bit of a daze. </p><p>This wouldn’t be different than any other performance, he told himself firmly, starting to feel more centred as he got dressed. Though he briefly missed the steady weight of his lute on his back. </p><p>As he passed his reflection, he whispered, “You used to run as far away from responsibilities as you could, when did that change?” </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Jaskier, Geralt, and Yennefer exited her portal in Salsburg, they were greeted by Triss, who escorted them to the Viscount while giving them a quick debrief as she led them through the main entrance. </p><p>“Derrym has the documents. There have been no new additions since you saw it last. I’m not quite sure what you will do with all the salt, but the servants have started preparations, and we’ll bring the first instalment with us when we leave. The lords are not exactly happy, but losing to witchers lets them keep their pride, and we’ve not asked for anything unreasonable, so they are pretty accepting at this point.” Triss paused and rapped her knuckles against the door before opening it and announcing, “Lord Julian, accompanied by Geralt of Rivia and Yennefer of Vengerberg.”</p><p>“Lord Ferdinand of Salsburg, and Lord Sebastian, well met,” Jaskier greeted them, nodding at the father and son who had stood up as they all entered the room. </p><p>“So this is the upstart that has killed my cousin and kicked his sons off their ancestral lands?” Lord Ferdinand sneered as he walked in. </p><p>“The one and the same,” Jaskier replied with a sardonic smile as he seated himself in the chair facing them. “And had your cousin not attacked Brokilon, he would still be Lord of Vaasa. As it is, he stands defeated, and so do you. Be glad that your fates are different.”  </p><p>“I seem to remember you prancing about with a lute last I saw you?” Sebastian said, speaking up for the first time, “You called yourself Jaskier I believe, and now it's Lord Julian? Well, I doubt it will be for long.”</p><p>“You don’t need to doubt, you can be sure he will remain lord as long as he wishes.” Geralt said, speaking softly. “It took him only a handful of men to defeat you. If you move on him again, we won’t show mercy.”</p><p>As he spoke, Geralt placed himself behind his chair to his right, while Yennefer stood to his left, and whatever courage Lord Ferdinand and his son might have initially felt, it dissipated quite quickly, and they soon signed the terms of surrender. </p><p> </p><p>When they made it back outside the servants had brought out a few sacks of barley, a small goat, and a lot of salt. </p><p>“This looks like it will take a while to load. Will you manage this by portal, or should I send for a cart?” Jaskier asked with a frown.</p><p>“I’m sure we’ll manage, if our strapping witchers can manage to lift all this,” Triss replied with a laugh as she put the witchers to work.</p><p>------</p><p>“I have a solution for our outer wall protection,” Yennefer said as the main course was set on the table later that evening. “The secrets of Aretuza’s protections have been lost with the elven mages who built it, but human mages have been researching how to replicate it for some time now, and I’ve been studying the different alternatives.”</p><p>“What can be done, and how much work will it be?” Jaskier asked, excited about the news. </p><p>“We would need to carve protective runes onto the bricks, and I mean every brick, and there is a potion that we would need to cover the whole wall in, to make it impossible to tamper with the runes later on.”</p><p>“The runes, must they be carved by a magic wielder?” </p><p>“No, anyone can carve them. It’s enough that I activate them with a spell and the potion.”</p><p>“Runes should be easy enough to copy even for those that are illiterate… we don’t have an abundance of workers, and this will be a dreary task. But we can organise it. Vesemir, could you look over-” But Vesemir was no longer at the table, Jaskier realised, and supper had been cleared without him noticing. </p><p>He looked over and saw that Ciri was the only one besides them left, and she was falling asleep over her pudding. They’d bored everyone away or put them to sleep.</p><p>“When did we become people that discuss outer walls over dinner?” Jaskier asked Yennefer, in a faint voice. “We used to be interesting people.”</p><p>Yennefer looked at him in silence for a moment, before throwing her head back with a laugh. She had an ugly laugh, he realised with delight as she snorted, for once not caring about how she was being perceived. It was the most joyful thing he had seen in ages, and he couldn’t help but join in. </p><p>Their laughter continued so long it became slightly hysterical. They tried to calm down but just looking at each other set them off in fresh peals of laughter, eventually waking Ciri up from her slumber. She gave them a look of such unimpressed judgement as only an adolescent could, which just set the two off in peals of laughter again. </p><p>-------</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The first witcher to seek them out was Gaetan. He arrived at the gates one morning and was escorted by Geralt to Jaskier’s office, but unlike most times, Geralt didn’t leave, choosing to stay standing by the door, arms crossed and gaze fixed at the new arrival.  </p><p>“I’m Julian, though my friends call me Jaskier, may I ask what brings you here?” Jaskier asked him, eyeing the man seated in front of him. </p><p>“I’m Gaetan, from the School of Cat, and I heard there was a lord here who took in witchers,” the man said, gaze fixed on the edge of Jaskier’s desk. </p><p>“It would be more truthful to say that they took me in,” Jaskier replied with a fond smile. “But yes, this is an estate where witchers are welcome.”</p><p>“Jaskier,” Geralt growled softly, but Jaskier held up his hand to silence him, focused on Gaetan, who still hadn’t met his gaze. </p><p>After a few long moments, during which Jaskier furtively gazed at some of his notes, oh dear, had he written those in iambic pentameter? Well, he supposed Vesemir was in for a treat when he went over his instructions the next morning... </p><p>“What would I have to do, to stay?” Gaetan asked, finally lifting his head and meeting Jaskier's eyes. </p><p>He reminded Jaskier of Geralt slightly; of when they first met and people called him butcher, showing perhaps who Geralt might have become if not for the relationships that steered him away from such darkness. Jaskier had never feared a witcher because they were a witcher, but there was barely contained violence in the man in front of him, violence that was far too close to the surface. </p><p>“This is a place for witchers, humans, and any other being that wishes to be here,” Jaskier said thoughtfully. “I don’t tolerate cruelty, this is no place where the strong lord over the weak. This isn’t a place of riches either. I cannot offer any grand rewards, my people do the work that needs doing, and I ensure that they are fed and with a roof over their heads.”</p><p>“I’ve not always been a good man. When people have tried to cheat me I’ve...” Gaetan began to say, almost snarling as he spoke, prompting Geralt to take a step forward, though Jaskier halted him with a quick gesture. </p><p>“I’m the lord of this estate. If you were to end up in a quarrel with another citizen, you would bring that to me, and respect my decision. You would not raise a hand in anger against the people here. If I assign you work you perform it, unless you have a good reason for refusing, because it will be expected of you.” Jaskier had leaned forward as he spoke, maintaining eye contact with Gaetan all the while. “In return, I can offer you a place to make your own, honest enough work, and my protection,” he concluded with a soft smile. </p><p>“Just like that, you’d take me in?” Gaetan asked, sceptical. “What work is it that your witchers perform for you?”</p><p>“Vesemir or Eskel will give you the full rundown if you decide to stay, but at the moment, Lambert is accompanying a caravan, Vesemir has just concluded a population count, and Eskel is… oh I forget what he is up to, but it’s either something terribly useful that I don’t yet know that I need, or he lost his goat again,” Jaskier said and shrugged. “You might help with the restoration of the outer wall, should you stay. When it’s needed, we fight, but I wouldn't expect that of you simply because you are a witcher. It would be your choice.”</p><p>Gaetan looked at Jaskier in frank disbelief, as if what he had said was incomprehensible, and Jaskier ached for him, that such a simple offer would shake him so. “Geralt. Why don’t you show Gaetan around, and then bring him to Vesemir. You’ll stay the night in a guest room, and should you wish to stay beyond that, you’ll find Vesemir in the morning and report to him.”</p><p>With that Jaskier rose and extended his hand for Gaetan to shake, patiently waiting with his arm outstretched until Gaetan rose to meet him halfway.</p><p>After Gaetan, witchers started to slowly trickle in, as word of mouth must have spread amongst them. About once a month, a new witcher arrived at their gates. They were all equally disbelieving over what they found in Vaasa, and Jaskier was quite curious to see how many of them would end up staying permanently. Some had been quite taken with the opportunity to focus on something menial for a change. Gaetan had set up a permanent residence in one of the guard posts by the outer wall, and seemed to thrive as he worked on the repairs and rune writing alone. Some of the witchers had taken up hunting, spending half their time outside of their settlement, which greatly eased the burden on their food supplies. Jaskier was considering if some of them might take well to herding animals, and he hoped that maybe one or two of the witchers might find a fancy in farming.</p><p>Truth be told, their presence greatly soothed Jaskier’s worry. He didn’t know if the knights that had sworn fealty to Lord Adelcrantz had all died, or if some had ridden away with his remaining family, but their properties lay abandoned, and Jaskier had been left in a precarious position as a lord without sworn knights and barely any men of fighting age, until the new witchers arrived to increase their numbers. King Ervyll of Verden had yet to make contact with them, but it was inevitable, with two of the former Lords of Vaasa still out there likely campaigning for help. Jaskier expected them to make a play for their former lands eventually. </p><p> </p><p>While Jaskier would love to say that there was complete peace and harmony between the humans and the witchers, that would be somewhat of an overly optimistic take on the current situation. The people in Vaasa had served under a rather bigoted lord, and taken up arms against witchers, and died for it. Some of them would likely hold a grudge about the loss of their husbands, fathers, or children for the rest of their lives, pretending otherwise would not help anyone. But if one could claim that Jaskier had one talent, it was in popularising and rehabilitating the image of witchers. Unfortunately, he was a bit too busy to pick up his lute, so he had to get creative. </p><p>Some of the humans of the estate were naturally coming to accept the witchers. Lambert, though he tried to hide it behind his surly persona, found a lot of joy in helping the farmers. Eskel was so friendly and helpful he disarmed everyone who was in his presence for an extended period of time, and the children always flocked to Coën. Gaetan still kept a wide berth of the humans, and even the other witchers, but he did the work he was assigned, and Jaskier might be deluding himself, but he suspected he could see the tenseness receding just slightly, as the mistreatment the witcher seemed to be expecting never came. Geralt wasn’t much better about mingling with the humans; he preferred to keep a distance, and usually trailed after Jaskier, if he wasn’t training Cirilla, though he always had time for any child that crossed his path, a complete pushover to any request from a child to Jaskier’s absolute delight. Jaskier had seen him play hide and seek, climb up trees to collect lost toys and even try skipping rope when Cirilla asked him nicely.  </p><p>Children… He had been thinking of establishing a small school, teaching the children how to read and count, get them out of their parents' hair until they were old enough to assist them. The past year had left a number of children orphans and many families were making do without men. They’d need some way to occupy the young ones next month, because they’d need all adults free to help with the harvesting. A small school would be the ideal solution, he realised, and if he had Vesemir there to oversee it, the children would grow up used to and trusting witchers, and hopefully, they’d start to break the cycle of bigotry and mistrust. Jaskier hoped it might bring some joy to Vesemir as well, he could tell the man loved to teach; despite how he grumbled, he was always in the best mood after an afternoon training Ciri. </p><p>Decision reached, Jaskier sprang up from his chair exclaiming, “Eskel!” and starling Geralt who was sitting by the window mending some of his old armour.</p><p>“Geralt,” Geralt said, frowning at him.</p><p>“Yes, yes, I know who you are,” Jaskier replied, flapping his hand in Geralt’s direction. “I meant, I have an idea and I need Eskel.”</p><p>Geralt frowned some more, “I can help, you don’t always need to go to Eskel.”</p><p>“You want to help?” Jaskier asked, looking at him in surprise. It wasn’t that Geralt wasn’t helpful, he was, but ever since Jaskier had taken over, Geralt, though he was often by Jaskier’s side, had kept himself away from matters of the estate. And since Jaskier had already become used to turning to Eskel and Vesemir, and Eskel seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to what he needed, he hadn’t minded leaving Geralt to his own devices.</p><p>Geralt frown had now escalated into a scowl, and Jaskier lifted an eyebrow in warning. Geralt seemed to think twice about what he had been about to say, looking put upon as he grumbled, “I don’t mind helping.”</p><p>“Oh,” Jaskier replied, charmed despite himself. “Well, I just had the idea to go about establishing a small school on the estate, maybe with Vesemir and perhaps Halle, as teachers. Have the young ones out of their parents' hair for a bit, especially for the harvest, and teach them the letters and some mathematics. Maybe a bit about the world and its creatures too. What do you think?”</p><p>“I think that sounds nice,” Geralt murmured, his voice soft and frown softening. “What do you need from me?”</p><p>“We need to find a place that’s easily reached by both the farmers and the town's children,” Jaskier replied, speaking as his mind whirled, “and if such a place doesn’t exist, we should build it, and we need some supplies, books. We’d have to start by making use of what we’ve got laying around… Oh, and ask around town for someone to make us slates! How many will we need? Where is Vesemir’s population count?” Jaskier asked as he twirled around to search for it. Sharing an office with Vesemir and Eskel was something of a trial, they always put everything away once they had used it, rather than leaving it on the desk where Jaskier could easily find it. </p><p>“Here it is, let's see, let's see. Oh, how I despise numbers, I find no joy from you,” Jaskier grumbled as he bent over the book. “Well, I’ll let Vesemir have the final word, but it looks like we have about twenty children between the age of four and eight, so might as well have about twenty-five slates prepared, if they are anything like me they’ll either lose them or lie about losing them… oh, and we’ll need to contact their parents as well, ask their interest.” </p><p>Initial planning completed, Jaskier looked up at Geralt, and found him gazing back with an unfamiliar expression on his face. </p><p>“It’ll be my pleasure to see it done,” Geralt finally murmured, holding eye contact with Jaskier for an extended moment, before inclining his head and walking out of the room. </p><p>“Why was that so...” Jaskier asked himself, trailing off in a bit of a loss for words. Geralt had not once in his life done what Jaskier had told him to. Oh well, he supposed that wasn’t quite true, but he’d always grumbled about it like the cantankerous bastard that he was, not that that had ever stopped Jaskier from ordering him around. But lately… it was almost as if Geralt enjoyed it? That couldn’t be it, surely, perhaps it was that he had started to respect Jaskier’s authority?  </p><p>“Goddsdamned horny?” Triss' voice laughed, popping up in the unoccupied doorway. </p><p>“Not the word I would have chosen!” Jaskier objected. </p><p>“But you can’t tell me I’m wrong,” she sing-songed in reply.</p><p>“I can and I will, lord's privileges!” Jaskier laughed. “What brings you up here Triss?”</p><p>“I am here to take you shopping for some new outfits, Eskel said you didn’t have anything important planned, so come on, up you get,” Triss said, coming to his side and pulling at his arm. </p><p>“This is a lot of excitement for a visit down to Malcolm's,” Jaskier yelped as he was pulled up to his feet. </p><p>“I’m not taking you to bloody Malcolm’s. Yennefer is going to portal us to Novigrad. I’ve booked an appointment with Nankovon Wirsemitz, where we shall all get nice and drunk and watch you get covered in the most exquisite fabrics.”</p><p>“Wirsemitz?” Jaskier gasped. “How?” Objections long forgotten. </p><p>“I have my ways,” she bragged, smiling up at him, her nose wrinkling and eyes sparkling with mirth. </p><p>“Lead the way then, my lady,” Jaskier said, taking her arm and letting her lead him away on a night of merriment. </p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>As the summer drew to a close, Jaskier and his witchers were hard at work planning the new school, the harvest, as well as a sundry of different repairs they needed to complete before the winter. </p><p>Cirilla had started to accompany him for one day per week, not quite enthusiastically just yet, but Jaskier hoped that they’d get there. He was optimistic about her and her future, wherever it led her. While she was still struggling somewhat at appreciating why she had to oversee orders or handle the accounting, when a decision Jaskier took piqued her interest, she asked questions with a dogged determination to understand his motives and reasoning. </p><p>He had also started to rely on Geralt more, which had initially been more difficult than he had expected. He’d come to realise that while he had forgiven Geralt for the mountain years ago, a part of him still held a fear that if he asked for too much or spent too much time with Geralt, they’d fall into old patterns, or Geralt would grow tired of him and leave again. It wasn’t a rational insecurity, he knew that. Geralt himself had asked him to lead, and had his whole family here. He wouldn’t simply up and leave if Jaskier tested his patience. </p><p>Still, it felt like every request he made was a small leap of faith, an effort to trust Geralt. To his astonishment, Geralt took on every request and treated both the tedious and the small with the level of seriousness he used to give to his contracts. Even though neither of them spoke of it out loud, it was as if he knew Jaskier was extending his trust to him, was fighting against the instincts that would have him protect his heart, and was letting Geralt slowly earn back his trust. Every day it grew easier, every day they rebuilt their trust. </p><p>This evening he looked up when he saw the door to his office open, and couldn’t stop the fond smile from taking over his face when he saw Geralt enter, balancing a bowl of beef stew, bread, and a bottle of wine while opening the door. </p><p>His stomach gave a loud growl when the food was placed before him, and Jaskier absent-mindedly shoved his papers to the side. </p><p>“You missed dinner again,” Geralt chastised him. “It’s not healthy.” </p><p>Jaskier was too busy inhaling his supper to answer, only pausing to give Geralt an obnoxious smile with his mouth still full, simply to enjoy the unimpressed eye roll he knew he was going to receive in reply. </p><p>“Tell me what I’ve missed,” Jaskier implored Geralt. “I feel like I haven’t seen most of my friends in ages.”</p><p>Geralt hummed thoughtfully, before accounting some of the moments Jaskier hadn’t heard about since he had been so busy recently. “Lambert’s been playing gwent with all the new arrivals, Coën says he has quite the deck now,” Geralt started with a grimace, clearly jealous. “Yennefer has been experimenting with wall fortifications when not busy with Ciri, and she and Gaetan keep fighting because they keep getting in each other's way. Ciri has started bringing her handmaidens to fighting practice. They get on Lambert’s and Eskel’s nerves I think, but she made a very passionate case for her handmaidens being able to defend her should she need it, that none of us could argue against that.”</p><p>Jaskier enjoyed listening to Geralt, he always did, but the fondness in his voice as he spoke of his family, no longer weighed down with guilt, was music to Jaskier’s ears. He was reluctant to interrupt, so when he had eaten the last of his stew, he leaned back and wiggled his fingers in the direction of the wine, a none too subtle sign for Geralt to pour him some. The movement stretched his neck unpleasantly, too long in the same position, he thought with a grimace.</p><p>Geralt raised his eyebrow at him, quite obviously calling him lazy, but he still got up and poured Jaskier a glass of wine, walking behind him and bringing his hand to the back of Jaskier’s neck. When Geralt started putting pressure and massaging Jaskier’s poor neck, he let out a rather throaty moan. Oh, it felt heavenly.  </p><p>“Oh, you take such good care of me,” Jaskier cooed as he let his eyes fall closed. </p><p>He could feel Geralt still in surprise for a moment as he drew in a surprised breath, and then the fingers continued their work, softly rubbing away the ache, and Jaskier, with food and wine in his belly, and Geralt's soothing presence at his back, found himself drifting towards sleep. </p><p>He woke up as he was placed into his bed, mind still hazy with sleep and exhaustion. He felt as Geralt carefully, almost reverently, removed his doublet and trousers, and tucked him into the sheets. </p><p> </p><p>“Geralt,” Jaskier asked absent-mindedly as he sat at the breakfast table with the wolf witchers. “Could you go and check with Sara and Ali about their stocks? Some of the Griffins were talking about a lack of material for their armour repairs, and I suspect that we might be low on leather, but chain mail shouldn’t be an issue, if it is they better see about changing that.”</p><p>“Yes, Jaskier,” Geralt rumbled, looking into Jaskier’s eyes as he spoke, before he inclined his head and made to walk away. </p><p>“Why does he always make it weird?” Lambert whined with a mouth full of breakfast sausage, while Eskel tried to hush him. “Jaskier orders us all about, it’s literally his job, so why does our brother always gotta act like-”</p><p>“Jaskier!” Vesemir said, cuffing the back of Lambert’s head as he passed him and clapping his hands together loudly. “The Griffins have been hard at work building the cabin where we’ll have the school, and I think they’d appreciate a visit from you.”  </p><p>“Sounds like a pleasant start of the day. Will you care to join me, Vesemir?” Jaskier hummed as he drank the last of his tea, while casting a confused look over his shoulder at the other two witchers, who appeared to be about to wrestle with each other. What had gotten into them?</p><p>“I’m needed in town today, and it might make more sense if-, <em>Geralt come back here</em>,” Vesemir turned to shout in the direction Geralt had disappeared to, “if Geralt were to accompany you, I’ll talk to Ali and Sara since I’ll be just next door at the woodworkers to see if the benches have been completed.”</p><p>“Looks like it’s you and me, Geralt,” Jaskier said, smiling up at the returned witcher, and accepting his hand as it was offered, though he didn’t actually require assistance in getting up. </p><p>Jaskier had spent the past months mostly inside, working until late at night, and every chance to stretch out his legs and speak to the people on the estate was one he treasured, and the moment was made even more pleasant with Geralt at his side. </p><p>Things at the estate had been falling into a routine of sorts finally, and Jaskier had managed to make it to dinner almost every night this week. He allowed himself, as he stood in the sunshine and gazed about town, to feel cautiously optimistic, chattering to Geralt about whatever nonsense he had on his mind.</p><p>As they walked towards the little cabin that was being built to host the school, they were met with an unexpectedly long progression of women, a few laundresses from the castle who had absolutely no reason for being there, but they were giggling and flushed and looked happy, so Jaskier decided not to interfere in whatever fun they were having. </p><p>“Good morning, ladies,” he waved at them and they giggled back in good spirits. </p><p>Jaskier soon realised what had brought the women all this way as they spotted the newly built school, where four griffin witchers, in a rather scandalous state of undress, were working and sweating under the hot sun. Oh my.</p><p>“Oh my,” Jaskier gasped quietly, and he had to force his gaze upwards from a glistening chest to meet the gaze of Derrym, who had been the first to spot the pair. </p><p>“My Lord,” Derrym greeted them, and then louder with a laugh. “Jaskier!” </p><p>“Yes! Yes, I’m here uh, with Geralt to-, Geralt, why are we here?” Jaskier asked, flustered and cursing his fair skin, he knew he must have gone absolutely pink. Would they believe it was the sun? </p><p>Geralt bestowed him with an unnecessarily judgemental look before dryly replying, “Jaskier wished to see the progress you’d made on the school. Jaskier, that would be the building behind Derrym.”</p><p>He really should tear his gaze away from Derrym, whose unbuttoned chemise showed skin almost down to his navel, where two buttons were still fastened and making the barest effort at decency. </p><p>“Jaskier!” Coën happily greeted him, jumping off the roof and jogging towards them, and oh, his chemise was completely unbuttoned.  </p><p>Oh, this was unfair, no one had buttered Jaskier’s biscuit in … oh he didn’t even want to do the math, the result would be too depressing.</p><p>“Well met, friends, I can give Jaskier here a tour. You’ve already seen it, Geralt, so if you want I can take it from here.” Coën said, placing a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder and moving to steer him inside. Gosh, he smelled wonderful, Jaskier sighed. No, focus, he scolded himself, you are a responsible lord and you will look at those, what are they, planks? And not Coën's bare chest. </p><p>“I’ll stay,” Geralt growled at Coën for some reason, while grabbing hold of Jaskier’s other shoulder, though Jaskier didn’t particularly understand his vehemence. It was just a cabin? Or perhaps Geralt also enjoyed the view the griffins were providing, and Jaskier absolutely wouldn’t deprive anyone of this unexpected delight, though Geralt seemed to mostly be glaring at Coën, who was smiling in amusement at the pair of them. </p><p>Derrym let out a loud laugh, and Jaskier shook his head to clear it, slapping away both Coën’s and Geralt’s hands and walking inside to have a look. </p><p>“We’ll be done in two days at most,” Coën spoke from the doorway. </p><p>“The benches should be done today. I'll carry them here with Lambert around midday,” Geralt was saying, and Jaskier was listening with one ear as he looked around, imagining Vesemir at the front of the room, the children listening, getting to be nothing but children for a few moments, allowed to be curious about the world. </p><p>“You’ve done great work, all of you,” Jaskier murmured, aware that his voice must be sounding terribly emotional, but not minding one bit. It might be small in the grand scheme of things, but seeing the witchers happy and smiling and creating something that would bring such joy to the children. Well, Jaskier was allowed to be a sap sometimes.  </p><p>“Aww, Jaskier,” Coën laughed, throwing a hand over his shoulder and shaking him lightly until Jaskier let out a wet laugh. “No need to cry about some planks of wood.” But Jaskier could tell that the compliment had been appreciated from the way Coën stood with his back just a bit straighter when they were back outside. </p><p>“We’ll have this place ready and filled with children by Monday, Jaskier,” Derrym confirmed, and huh, his shirt seemed to have disappeared. Interesting, Jaskier thought, while tilting his head. </p><p>“Time for us to leave,” Geralt grunted, putting a hand on the small of Jaskier’s back and steering him away forcefully. </p><p>“Bye,” Jaskier sighed wistfully, turning his head for a last look. </p><p>It wasn’t until they were by Björn's farm that he realised that, “Hey, I didn’t need to leave!” </p><p>“Yes, yes you did,” Geralt growled, still steering Jaskier with a hand at his back as if he thought Jaskier might turn around and run back otherwise.</p><p>“I would have liked to stay,” he replied wistfully with a pout, batting Geralt’s hand away from his back since he suddenly decided to grab a hold off Jaskier's doublet, and it was a Wirsemitz original. </p><p>“Well, now that we are here, I might as well say hello to Björn and make sure everything is running smoothly,” Jaskier shrugged, his mind already spinning towards the harvest and all the preparations needed. </p><p>Björn was in fine spirits and assured Jaskier that everything was moving along nicely. Jaskier allowed himself to take the long and winding way back to the castle, stopping by the bakers for some doughnuts to share with Geralt as they walked. He chatted to the people that crossed his path and decided to allow himself an afternoon off, walking to where he knew Eskel was training Ciri, and sitting down on the grass next to Geralt to watch her and her handmaidens take turns running and leaping, running and leaping.</p><p>Feeling rather lazy and content, Jaskier leaned back against Geralt’s shoulder, expecting the other man to shove him off. Geralt surprised him by shifting around so that he cradled Jaskier in his arms, his legs bent on either side of Jaskier’s hips. </p><p>Jaskier turned his head and whispered, “Thank you, my dear,” into Geralt’s ear, burrowing himself further into his embrace, as Geralt let out a satisfied rumble. He was quite certain this was unwise, that he would do best to have some boundaries for the good of his heart and his friendship with Geralt. But he was so comfortable, that he couldn't bring himself to pull back. So he allowed himself to rest in the shadow of the apple tree with Cirilla's and Eskel's laughter sounding in his ears, and Geralt holding him up. </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>Despite all the worry and sleepless nights, they managed to handle the harvesting without any major setbacks. The school had opened just two days before, to great curiosity and enthusiasm from the children. Many of the parents had come by to look as well, some of them perhaps concerned about their children being taught by a witcher, but Jaskier was sure they’d all soon discover that Halle was by far scarier than old Vesemir. He also suspected that many of them were driven by simple curiosity, since none of them had been taught at school. </p><p>Jaskier spent most days out by the fields, initially to offer supervision and support, but Björn had been ploughing and harvesting those fields for decades and he didn’t need some new lord telling him how to handle his work. Jaskier came by every day anyway, often bringing Ciri with him, simply because he enjoyed seeing his people working together. He had re-assigned most of the witchers to assist in harvesting the wheat fields, and they were all earnestly assisting the farmers in their work. </p><p>When the harvest concluded, Jaskier threw as large a celebration as he could afford, and the whole town came together to feast and sing and celebrate under the stars. He’d even convinced Triss and Yennefer to provide some illusions and fireworks, and he jumped up on the table to sing a few rousing songs once he had a few ales in his belly. </p><p>His father had once told him that there were only two things that mattered to him on this earth, and it was the health of his people and the happiness of his family. Jaskier had always thought himself different due to his elven blood, his poetic and free spirit, and had assumed he would be wandering under the open sky of the Continent for years to come. </p><p>He thought, as Vesemir threw Ciri up in the air, and Triss used her magic to make them both fly to Vesemir's roar of disapproval, as Yennefer tried to hide her delighted smile, as Eskel used Aard on Lambert so that he fell on his arse right in front of the blacksmith he had been eyeing, and Geralt sat down next to him and handed him the last chocolate-covered strawberry, that maybe he was more like his father than he had thought. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a>I’m on tumblr if you want to say hi!</a>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Geralt POV part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An enormous thank you to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider">dragon_rider</a>! Thank you so much for helping me! Also thank you to Stonecoldsilly for the inspiration and support, and to ms45 who bounced ideas with me :)</p>
<p>Thank you everyone reading for the lovely comments and kudos, they mean the world!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>When Geralt was a child, he dreamt of becoming a knight, of finding glory and defending the weak from harm. After his first year on the Path, he put away those childish desires. Yet he somehow never managed to put away his desire to help, to do good, even though it always landed him in trouble. </p>
<p>It was starting to feel like Destiny was out to prove to him time and time again, that no matter his intentions, a monster such as he could never make the world better than it was, could never help anyone. </p>
<p>Geralt didn’t even know what his first mistake was, and he doubted it mattered anymore; they’d piled up to such a degree that whenever he stopped to think, really think, about the mess they were all in because of him and his choices he began to find it difficult to both think and breathe. </p>
<p>He spent his days sitting in a crumbling castle, hiding in a tower where he, Eskel and Vesemir sat and went over their situation day after day after day, and not once had they thought of a good way out of this mess. </p>
<p>When they brought him Jaskier he found himself wanting to weep; he didn't want another friend dragged into his mess, he didn't want Jaskier to see what he had done. At the same time, it felt good to see him again, somehow looking as fresh-faced and full of joy as always. And still willing to travel to Geralt, despite how he treated him when they saw each other last, trying to cheer them with song and laughter. He guiltily and greedily drank in every word, gesture and smile Jaskier bestowed upon him.  </p>
<p>So it was typical that Destiny would call him away just hours after Jaskier arrived, as if chastising him for finding a moment of joy. At the same time, when he was called away to fight, it was almost a relief. Eskel or Vesemir would escort Jaskier home, where he would be safe and untarnished. And though fighting brought him no joy, for a while, he could focus on the battle in front of him instead of staring at his failures. </p>
<p>Yennefer had urged him to leave Vaasa, and he thought he should have. At the same time, he couldn’t leave now, not again. Lambert had blown up at him every night since they defeated the Viscount of Salsburg and his knights. ‘What will we do, Geralt, with more people under our responsibility? Condemn them to starvation? Just what is the godsdamned point to all this?!’ </p>
<p>And there was no point, but Geralt was just too much of a coward to confess it. He was sinking, and he was bringing them all with him because he didn’t know how to stop.</p>
<p>Returning to Vaasa, ‘victorious’ as Jaskier called it, didn’t feel like a victory despite Jaskier’s and Ciri’s attempt at cheering them up. It was as Lambert had said; more people condemned to suffer under his inept leadership. </p>
<p>Geralt was guiltily glad to see Jaskier there. He couldn’t understand why he had stayed, and soon he’d need to send him home, but for now, he drank in the sight of him. </p>
<p>-----</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wake up,” Eskel ordered him, throwing a pair of trousers at his face and pulling open the curtains. </p>
<p>“What time is it?” Geralt groaned, feeling as if he had only just closed his eyes. </p>
<p>“It’s dawn.”</p>
<p>“Of course it is.” Geralt groaned, rising mechanically, trying to mentally prepare for whatever new disaster Eskel needed to inform him of this early. </p>
<p>“There is something you need to see. I’ve packed breakfast. Get dressed and meet me by the castle doors,” Eskel ordered, before turning on his heel and exiting the room. </p>
<p>Geralt did as instructed, dressing and falling into step with Eskel as he marched outside. To his surprise, he was led to one of the lookout towers.</p>
<p>“Just look. Look at the town waking up, and you’ll see. I’ll explain more later, but for now, just look,” Eskel instructed him with a soft smile. </p>
<p>“You’ve taken to people watching?” Geralt asked, confused.</p>
<p>“Sometimes, yes. I wake up thinking it’s all a dream, and I come here and I just watch this place wake up,” Eskel replied mysteriously, looking out.</p>
<p>Geralt reached into Eskels bag for some bread, not seeing how watching their failures from a different vantage point would help. </p>
<p>“Look towards the farms, Geralt,” Eskel told him.</p>
<p>There were people working on the fields, and there was enough light now for him to see that instead of the rubble of destroyed houses and stone from the outer wall, the fields were filled with…</p>
<p>“We planted wheat,” Eskel informed him. “Now, look over there.”</p>
<p>The windows of a baker’s shop were lit up, and as a gust of wind came, Geralt could smell fresh bread. </p>
<p>“The baker’s name is Aisha. That fucking baron, he emptied all her stocks and killed her father when he tried to stop him. Jaskier arranged for her to get some wheat and barley from our stores, she bartered for some salt and now, she took in two orphan girls who help her with her shop. I helped her make her new sign.” </p>
<p>“You see over there? That’s a market now,” Eskel continued in a voice filled with wonder, “We talked to everyone queuing for food, we asked them ‘what did you do’ and ‘what do you need in order to do it again’ and then we just, we just helped them. It wasn’t simple, mind, and I’m pretty sure Jaskier has actually cheated money from the bank somehow to finance those loans.”</p>
<p>They stayed in that tower, watching the estate wake up; Eskel telling stories, and Geralt seeing the truth of them with his own eyes. </p>
<p>“How is this possible?” he finally asked, the first words he had spoken in hours. </p>
<p>“Jaskier,” Eskel replied. “He asked if we’d let him make suggestions, and the next thing we knew, we were running around following his orders. This is the result.”</p>
<p>Despite seeing it for himself, Geralt could still hardly believe it. Could hardly believe this was the same town he had left.</p>
<p>“Enough hiding up here, let me show you up close.”</p>
<p>And show he did. Eskel took him up and down the estate, pointing out every improvement, telling Geralt people's life stories, and showing him the newly planted wheat fields. He felt like a child again, as he walked around with Eskel listening as his older brother showed him things he hadn’t seen before. </p>
<p>Eskel deposited him with Vesemir, who was walking around making notes in the town courtyard, and Geralt was treated to a two-hour lecture on grains. He appreciated the importance, he did, but who found grains that interesting?</p>
<p>He was dragged away by Yennefer, who spared him any lectures and got straight to the point. “The work Jaskier has done, it’s made this place safe again. Ciri can run around, she can relax. I’ve begun researching ways to use magic to improve our fortification. Once they are complete, this place will be truly safe.” Yennefer informed him. “Geralt, if he stays, so could we. Ciri could have a home for what is left of her childhood.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once he was left alone once more, he walked back to the lookout spot Eskel had taken him to, and just stood there as life milled about below. </p>
<p>He felt too many things at once; the relief that someone had come in and taken his mistakes off his hands, and guilt that he couldn’t manage it by himself. Guilt that he was surprised at Jaskier’s competency, relief that he had now found a reason, a selfless one, to ask Jaskier to stay. </p>
<p>He had thought about Jaskier often since their separation. At first, guilt had made it difficult to think about his friend, but when he had found Ciri, and they spent so long hiding and running, he tried to comfort her. And many of the stories he could think of that might bring her joy to hear and him to remember, were ones with Jaskier in them. There were many stories, they had known each other for over twenty years, had gone from sporadically running into each other to meeting every year, Geralt wasn’t even sure when the pattern changed, one day Jaskier was just always there. Once he started telling stories of Jaskier, he hadn’t stopped. Silly things, complaints, adventures, all the things they saw together. </p>
<p>Geralt had long known that he cared for Jaskier, but it had taken looking back at their years together to really show him what he had lost. He had a second chance now, and he didn’t know if he could get Jaskier to stay with him, with them. But he would try. </p>
<p>He didn’t plan what to say to Jaskier. In truth, he barely remembered what he said, his mind had been buzzing since he stepped into that tower, and he couldn’t think, so for once, he just spoke. </p>
<p>He asked Jaskier to stay, and he asked him to lead them, to lead him. </p>
<p>On his knees at Jaskier’s side, Geralt felt at peace for the first time in a long time. </p>
<p>-----</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Giving up the burden of responsibility had been like getting to unwrap a noose from around his neck. For the first time in years, he woke up refreshed.</p>
<p>Yesterday, he had been shown by his family how Jaskier was a good leader. This morning at the breakfast table, Geralt noted the easy authority coming from Jaskier, as he gave out orders to everyone around him. Everyone except him. </p>
<p>It wasn’t that Geralt had forgotten how they parted, but he realised that he had been presumptuous in assuming that Jaskier’s easy acceptance and return to his life, meant that Jaskier trusted him again. Geralt could see the hesitation before every order he gave Geralt, as if he feared that placing any demands upon Geralt would anger him. </p>
<p>Geralt had never been good with words. But Jaskier knew that, and he didn’t expect any from him. Instead, always so generous and fearless, he kept giving Geralt the opportunity to prove himself through his actions, to earn back his trust. </p>
<p>With his hands and his labour, Geralt proved his trustworthiness, and with his open heart, Jaskier accepted him back into his trust. Suddenly, every action carried with it a new significance, almost like a ritual. </p>
<p>When he could start to see Jaskier’s trust in him restored, Geralt had thought that would be the end of it, that their relationship would move back to normal. Yet, that new significance still lingered over Geralt’s actions. His service.</p>
<p>Jaskier had taken on Geralt’s burden, and he carried it with grace. Geralt remembered its weight, and he wanted to be the person to ease that burden. He wanted to attend to Jaskier’s needs, to follow his commands, and to lend his strength and carry his body when it grew weary. He wanted Jaskier to turn to him, to need him.</p>
<p>He wanted to be Jaskier’s sword and steel, defending and conquering for him; trusting Jaskier to lead him right. He wanted to be his hands; to carry out his will. He wanted to swear to Jaskier that he would always be on his side, and he wanted Jaskier to bind them together through honour and fealty. </p>
<p>He wanted too much. He didn’t think he could ever be satisfied. He wanted to caress Jaskier’s brow when he frowned in worry, he wanted to stand by his side, always. He wanted, he burned, with the desire to touch, to give pleasure. </p>
<p>His desires embarrassed him, at times. A witcher held no land, swore no oaths, took no wives. He knew his place. Real knights would come to Jaskier’s door, and be granted the honour of being his sworn men. Geralt would stay, he would serve, and he would be satisfied as long as Jaskier kept granting him a place at his side. </p>
<p>-----</p>
<p>They were eating breakfast when a messenger boy ran up to Jaskier and whispered something in his ear, causing Jaskier to frown and stiffen. </p>
<p>“My cousin has arrived,” Jaskier muttered, looking deep in thought as he started handing out instructions. “Mattias, please have the guests escorted to the sitting rooms when they arrive, and have the cooks prepare some light food and drink for them. Yennefer, it might be best if Cirilla wasn’t seen.”</p>
<p>“Jaskier, you are the one always saying I need to see and participate in the running of this place, you can’t just send me away when something important happens!” Ciri objected. </p>
<p>“Ferrant is family, but I don’t know on whose behalf he has come, we shouldn’t risk him seeing you. Ciri, believe me, meeting my cousin is no reason to put yourself at risk, the man is not particularly exciting.”</p>
<p>As Ciri continued to argue, Jaskier turned to Yennefer and smirked. “As her guardians, I leave that decision to you then, Yennefer and Geralt,” happily saddling them with the argument. “But don’t take any risks. Ferrant might not look very imposing, but he is the royal instigator for the King of Kerack, and we don’t want word of Ciri’s location to become known, the royal houses are very much still keeping an eye out for her. I shall go and dress. Eskel, meet me in the sitting rooms.” And with those words, he rose from the table and walked to his chambers. </p>
<p>As Ciri drew in a deep breath in preparation for her argument, Yennefer sighed and walked up to her, using her magic to make Ciri’s hair and eyes appear brown, “Go change, you will be Fiona, an apprentice to Triss. Do try to go unnoticed while our guests are here.”</p>
<p>Ferrant’s arrival with no warning meant that the whole castle and its staff were thrown out of their routine as they hurried to accommodate the new guests. This would also be the first noble guests to grace the new Lord of Vaasa with a visit, and it seemed like the staff were going beyond themselves to show off their capabilities, with Triss at the helm directing them. Geralt only saw them from a distance, as Jaskier and Eskel gave their guests a tour of the grounds. The man did indeed not look particularly interesting, walking slowly behind his guides he was a head shorter than Jaskier and rather dull in appearance.</p>
<p>Dinner was a typical noble affair; families were asked about, gossip was alluded to, and no one spoke their mind until the plates had been cleared. But then, unusually direct for a noble, Ferrant dismissed his wife and her companion and turned to Jaskier, “Can I assume you trust everyone here with sensitive information? Because it’s time to discuss why I’m here.”</p>
<p>“I trust everyone at this table, Ferrant,” Jaskier confirmed, reaching over to pour himself and his cousin more wine. </p>
<p>“Julian, I won't even begin to guess how you ended up managing this estate, seeing as last I saw you, you were prancing around singing songs. I won’t deny that you seem to possess some degree of skill at the work. You’ve done well in keeping the people here afloat.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Ferrant,” Jaskier said in a surprised tone of voice. </p>
<p>“But enough is enough, Julian, you must give this place up and return home.” </p>
<p>“Ferrant, I’ve made a promise to stay. I won't leave the people here.” Jaskier replied, meeting his cousin’s gaze head-on. </p>
<p>“The King of Verden will send young Lord Adelcrantz’s here, he will take his rightful place and the people of this estate will be well cared for. It will all be organised.”</p>
<p>“We’ve built a home here, I won't just abandon it.”</p>
<p>“Julian, be reasonable. The people here will get on with things as they always have,” Ferrant dismissed, giving the peasantry about as much thought as nobles usually do, but there was sympathy in his eyes when he faced Jaskier. “And you know you can’t stay.”</p>
<p>Ferrant’s words didn’t surprise Geralt, none of them had fooled themselves into believing they could have this forever. No king would want a bunch of witchers loitering around, forming their own city under Jaskier’s care. They’d always be a threat.</p>
<p>Jaskier grimaced in frustration, and gestured at the people around the table, “If I leave, could they stay?”</p>
<p>The question confused Geralt, why would Jaskier think the king would be more kindly disposed to witchers than him? </p>
<p>“No. They killed Lord Adelcrantz’s father, of course they cannot stay.” </p>
<p>“We’ve made a home here, settled down, we are not doing anything more exciting than planting and harvesting.” Jaskier continued, trying to convince his cousin they were harmless. But a city of witchers would never be seen that way.</p>
<p>“I’m here because the King of Verden knows who you are. Word has travelled, and he reached out to the King of Kerack, who asked me to come because they know we are related. I’m the carrot before the stick Julian, and I urge you to take this chance and walk away before you ruin yourself.“</p>
<p>“What makes you so sure we cannot stay, Lord Ferrant?” Yennefer asked, sneering at the man. </p>
<p>“The King Ervyll is not particularly fond of non-humans. He will see a whole town of them as a provocation, m’ lady.” Ferrant replied, “He would come for you, Julian, don’t let it get that far. I do not want to bring such news to my aunt and uncle's door. It would break their hearts.”</p>
<p>“Don’t listen to him, Jaskier,” Geralt growled. “We wouldn’t let any harm come to you.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure you’d try your best, my good man. My cousin always spoke highly of your prowess,” Ferrant sighed, giving Geralt’s arm a condescending pat. “But you witchers are no knights, fighting a monster in a sewer is hardly comparable to valour and war. Julian, do you have any sworn men? Are there any knights on your estate that could lead your men to war?”</p>
<p>“I don’t.” Jaskier sighed, closing his eyes briefly, “And I wouldn't want anyone to be hurt because of me.”</p>
<p>“You’ve run out of time. It’s not fair, Julian.” Ferrant said, leaning over the table to squeeze Jaskier’s hand, “But it’s the way of the world.”</p>
<p>Geralt felt shaken; he could defend against violent attacks, but words had never been his strength and they had a way of slithering in and breaking a man apart from the inside, the insidious little things. </p>
<p>Jaskier slowly released his breath, staring at the table. “I wasn’t sure if you knew, Ferrant.”</p>
<p>“There was no need to air anyone’s dirty laundry while you were just out there having fun with your flute.”</p>
<p>“Lute.”</p>
<p>“Lute <em>and</em> flute I’d say from the reputation that reached us. Cousin, it was rather an open secret that you came to be without much help from my uncle, seeing as how he had been away at court when you were conceived, but he didn’t seem to mind and so neither did we. The fact that you are three years older than me,” Geralt startled in surprise, his cousin looked to be almost twice his age, “makes it rather obvious. You are putting yourself in <em>danger</em>. I’d hate to see you sent away to a reservation, or worse.”</p>
<p>“What the fuck is he talking about, Jaskier?” Lambert shouted, having had enough of listening to the two cousins talk around the subject. </p>
<p>“I would like us to seriously consider Ferrant’s proposition,” Jaskier said after a moment of silence, he was smiling at them in reassurance, but his eyes looked resigned and sorrowful. “He is offering us all a bloodless and smooth exit. We could be back to our old lives and the people here would be safe”</p>
<p><em>“No, </em>Jaskier<em>.”</em> Geralt growled, and his brothers voiced their disagreement through similar objections, but Jaskier silenced them with a look.</p>
<p>“You need to listen and we need to talk this through because there is something I haven’t told you. I know this has become a home for all of us, but unless, ah, Fiona or someone else at the table would like to take on my position within the next few years, I believe it’s for the best that we accept Ferrant’s offer.”</p>
<p>The table erupted into shouts and wild objections, everyone was shouting at the same time, except Ferrant, who was muttering, ”Fiona? Who is Fiona? Is she some daughter you’ve failed to mention?” </p>
<p>After a few moments, Jaskier gestured for them all to settle. “I would gladly stay and lead you if I could,” he said in an even voice, looking briefly into Geralt’s eyes as he spoke, before turning to address the whole table. “But there is only so long I can stay as your lord before it becomes obvious that I’m part-elf.” </p>
<p>A shocked silence set in before the whole table seemed to speak at once. </p>
<p>“You are an elf?”  </p>
<p>“Why is that a problem?”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you tell me?” </p>
<p>“Elves can’t hold land or titles,” Vesemir stated, his words silencing everyone else. </p>
<p>“Humans do not recognize elven titles, nor their rights to any land or inheritance.” Jaskier corrected gently. </p>
<p>“Like us.” Geralt said in surprise, seeking eye contact with Jaskier. </p>
<p>“Like you,” Jaskier confirmed with a sympathetic smile and sad eyes, before focusing once again on the practical matters. “Our position here is precarious enough already, but if anyone heard of an elf laying claim to an estate? They’d be at our door in a matter of hours to ensure our end, to make sure no other non-human got any ideas.” </p>
<p>“How would they know?” Eskel asked, frowning at Jaskier’s cousin in suspicion.</p>
<p>“My cousin is forty-eight and has met most of the nobility on the continent, seeing as how he is a rather famous bard and from a noble family. People have been whispering about it the past decade, for a while it could be dismissed as jealousy but now he looks the age of his peers' children. Now he has enemies. The king has his eye on you now, and it won't be long until they know.” </p>
<p>“I’m afraid my cousin is right,” Jaskier sighed. “The options we have are to either take the offer and leave this place. Or, I could stay as Fiona’s advisor. I’m not sure about that idea, but we don’t really have any other humans who could step in. We’d do best to make the switch soon. I thought we’d have more time, but...” </p>
<p>“We are happy and safe here, why can’t we continue as we have?” Ciri asked, “With me as an heir, I’ll take more responsibility, I promise, but I can’t be the lady of this estate. I don’t have that option right now.” </p>
<p>“We cannot put too much focus or burden on Fiona, ” Yennefer said. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry but will someone please tell me who this Fiona is?” Ferrant complained, his objection going ignored. </p>
<p>“Perhaps we wouldn't need to announce her yet, but we’d have to think of who should take over until then, for if we stay we cannot continue as we have. I should not be named lord a second longer than necessary,” Jaskier told Yennefer. “That way the question of inheritance won't be tainted.”</p>
<p>“You are not a taint, Jaskier!” Ciri burst out, banging her fist on the table and rising to stand. “I will not take over simply because humans are too narrow-minded to accept you.”</p>
<p>“Fuck that, Jaskier. We stand by you, we are loyal to you, and we want to stay. Isn’t that right?” Ciri demanded, turning and glaring around the table, and they all rose to stand, just as she had, giving shouts of agreement. </p>
<p>“You aren’t going anywhere, Jaskier, not unless you want to. And we will stay right by your side,” Eskel said. </p>
<p>“They will come for us if we stay,” Jaskier said, but there was a glint in his eyes now, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. </p>
<p>“I’d like to see them try,” Yennefer sneered, her violet eyes sparkling in challenge. </p>
<p>“When do they not?” Lambert shouted, to agreeing laughs. “I'd rather go out defending my home than to some merchant who turns around and spits at me when I’ve done his dirty work!”</p>
<p>“You will get yourself killed, and your mother will blame me, mark my words!” Ferrant hissed, pointing around the table. </p>
<p>Geralt ignored him and took a step towards Jaskier. “This is our home,” he said. “You gave us a home. Now let us fight for it, let us defend it.”</p>
<p>Finally, Jaskier stood, eyes sparkling as he looked around at them all, he raised his glass and announced, “To our home!”</p>
<p>“To our home!” The room echoed, as they all raised their glasses. </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’ve only read the short stories and a bit from Blood of Elves, so this was very much my own interpretation of Ferrant</p>
<p>Sorry for the delay, this chapter gave me some trouble, but I found writing in Geralt pov again fun, and I hope it was enjoyable for you! We have one more chapter from Geralt's perspective, and then it’s back to Jaskier :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An enormous thank you to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider">dragon_rider</a>! Thank you so much for helping me! 

</p><p>This one's dedicated to Stonecoldsilly, thank you for the inspiration and encouragement! </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt knew they were hurtling towards something that would change everything. They had been given the chance to walk away, to go back to their old ways of life, and they had, together, made the choice to try for something more instead. </p>
<p>It went against everything Geralt had believed since he stepped out of the gates of Kaer Morhen, when he had been taught his place in the world. For the first time since he was a child, he was starting to think that maybe things could change, that they might be allowed to make a home for themselves. </p>
<p>Before Jaskier’s cousin left, he had taken Geralt aside and told him that a lord with no sworn men, no knights on his estate, would look weak to his neighbours. If they looked weak, it would not be long until they were attacked. Ferrant had looked at Geralt and said, ‘If you care about my cousin as he cares for you, either swear him fealty or find him knights who will. If not, I fear this will be the last time I see Julian.’</p>
<p>Humans had told him he could never belong to anyone, and he had believed them. They had told Jaskier the same. If Jaskier was brave enough to defy humanity for them, then so would Geralt. </p>
<p>A half-elf could live as long as a witcher. He wouldn’t ever have to leave Jaskier’s side. </p>
<p>He could have this, he could be this. He could belong at Jaskier’s side. Couldn’t he?</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Geralt finally approached the topic with his brothers, they were more accepting of the idea than he had anticipated. </p>
<p>“Look, Jaskier needs sworn men, and does not give a fuck about what other people say about witchers,” Lambert told him. “Why the fuck would he turn you down? Why are you overcomplicating it?” </p>
<p>“It’s a big change, Lambert,” Eskel replied, calm as always. “We should consider it properly.”</p>
<p>“What's there to consider, a nice life working for our friend, a lord who respects us, or life back on the path? Besides, that would mean abandoning Jaskier after everything he has done. Would you leave him here alone, Eskel?” Lambert growled, starting to sound combative now, eyes sparkling as he prepared to defend his opinion. </p>
<p>“No one is saying that, Lambert,” Eskel placated, waiting until Lambert calmed down to continue. “Only that a change this significant deserves some consideration.”</p>
<p>“Well, I’ve considered, and I’m going to do it. I’m swearing my loyalty.” Lamber snarled, tense and snappish, as if he expected them to try to snatch this opportunity for a better life away from him. </p>
<p>Geralt wasn’t the only one who had thought of this, he realised. He wasn’t the only one for whom an opportunity for love and respect was foreign and scary and in their reach for the first time. He felt a pang of sympathy towards Lambert. </p>
<p>“And let's not even pretend that Geralt here isn't salivating at the mouth at this chance to kneel at Jaskier’s feet.” Lambert continued, performing a rather crude gesture with his hand, and Geralt’s sympathy came to an abrupt end. </p>
<p>“It’s alright to want this, Geralt,” Eskel said, after a glare in Lambert’s direction. “I know it means a little, hm, <em>more,</em> to you than to us. But we all want this. We’ll stand with you in this. We’ll change, together.” </p>
<p>“I want this,” Geralt finally confessed. “I want to swear homage to Jaskier.” The relief of admitting it out loud floored him slightly. </p>
<p>“We’re doing this, huh? Saying a big giant fuck you to the rules.” Lambert said with a triumphant smirk. </p>
<p>“It’s likely others won't recognize a witcher’s fealty, and they definitely won't recognize a half-elf as a lord or landowner.” Eskel cautioned him. </p>
<p>“Them try.” Geralt replied. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eskel brought the topic up with Coën, and it soon spread through the witcher population in Vaasa. In a matter of hours, it became clear that there was more interest than they had expected. The ball was now in motion, now all they had to do was tell Jaskier. </p>
<p>“Jaskier,” he said, putting aside his work, which had been to create simple mathematical questions, preferably grain-based, to help Vesemir. He hadn’t been able to make much progress though, mind buzzing with what he was about to say. </p>
<p>“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, after a few moments had passed, writing down his final thoughts before putting down his quill. </p>
<p>Geralt noted with some amusement that he had once again failed to put it onto its proper place, despite Eskel making sure that the quill stand was always within reach. Jaskier treated paper reverently, a habit formed from its expense and the care he placed on his songs and notebooks. He, unfortunately, did not extend the same care to the desk, to Eskel’s endless frustration, and Geralt’s quiet amusement. Jaskier had changed, his new responsibilities demanded it, but there were still occasional signs of the absent-mindedness that were uniquely Jaskier. Those habits used to drive Geralt to frustration, but now he found himself glad to see that some of them still remained. </p>
<p>“Before Ferrant left, he told me that you ruling here without any sworn men would make this place look undefended and weak,” Geralt started haltingly.</p>
<p>“We aren’t weak, Geralt. I have some of the Continents strongest, most powerful people on my land,” Jaskier said with a proud smile. “But Ferrant isn’t completely wrong, appearance means more than you think, and yes, a lord who hasn't inspired any fealty is considered to have a weak hold of his estate.” </p>
<p>“Before he spoke to me, I hadn't considered that there could be <em>more</em>.” Geralt confessed, drawing in a deep breath, trying to explain what he desired. </p>
<p>“More?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t realise that you might want-, that I could <em>have</em>,” Geralt stammered, frowning in frustration at his inability to speak his mind.</p>
<p>Jaskier was starting to look concerned, and moved up from his chair and came to kneel down in front of him, squeezing his arm “What do you want, love? Tell me and it’s yours.”</p>
<p>“I want to be bound to you, I want to swear homage to you.” Geralt finally bit out, while staring at the floor.</p>
<p>Jaskier fell silent, and when Geralt turned to look at him, he was met by a pair of eyes widened in surprise. He watched as the shock morphed to wonder, and Jaskier’s hand moved from his arm to his jaw as he spoke. “It would be my honour to receive your homage, and to swear my protection in return.”</p>
<p>Geralt didn't have the words in him to express what Jaskier's reply meant to him, but Jaskier didn’t seem to need them; he simply pulled Geralt's head forward and placed a kiss on his brow, before leaning their foreheads together. </p>
<p>“Are you sure you want to be stuck with me? I’ll live a long time, you know,” Jaskier whispered. “It’s quite the commitment.”</p>
<p>“And I’ll be beside you all those years, if you permit it,” Geralt vowed quietly and without hesitation. ”My lord, my Jaskier.”</p>
<p>“Then your place will be by my side for as long as you want it, my witcher, my Geralt.”</p>
<p>-----</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The morning after Geralt’s and Jaskier’s conversation, Eskel went to speak with Jaskier about the witchers wishing to swear fealty, since Geralt had gotten rather distracted and failed to mention them. Geralt suspected that Jaskier didn’t get much done that day, walking around misty-eyed and shocked, though Geralt could not understand his surprise. Surely he must have noticed the loyalty and trust he had inspired in all of them; through the gift of a home, through his generosity, through his leadership. </p>
<p>It made Geralt feel quietly content, seeing how happy Jaskier was, and how happy his fellow witchers and his family were. </p>
<p>Preparations were soon on their way for the ceremony. Triss, who was still splitting her time between Vaasa and wherever her home was these days, had decided to stay on with them a while longer and had volunteered to plan the ceremony. And since Eskel was always busy, Triss saw it fit to rope Geralt into helping her plan.</p>
<p>“We need to figure out the guests,” Triss was saying while nibbling on the edge of her quill. “It can't be just us and the farmers.”</p>
<p>“Why not?” Geralt frowned, that already seemed like plenty of people.</p>
<p>“It’s a public claiming, Geralt,” Triss replied, smirking at his sudden intake of breath. “You shouldn't do that quietly. Jaskier doesn’t want to do that quietly.”  </p>
<p>“Hmm.” Geralt replied, trying to hide the effect those words had had on him.</p>
<p>“Furthermore, this is the first time in history witchers have sworn fealty and homage. If, as Jaskier said, he believes his elvish status is about to become known soon, this will afford us a lot of security. People will think twice about attacking a lord with over a dozen sworn witchers.”</p>
<p>“I want him safe,” Geralt bit out, clenching his fists. </p>
<p>“I say we invite Ferrant, the Salsburg’s, hmm, we don't really have any friends here amongst the neighbours. But I have some friends at court I could bring. Oh and we need a bard, I wonder if we could get Valdo Marx?”</p>
<p>“Not Valdo,” Geralt stopped her. “Do we need a bard? I don't want Jaskier to-” he didn’t want Jaskier to miss his old life. He must, this was never the life he had wanted for himself, Geralt thought guiltily, but he didn't want Jaskier to see anything that would make him nostalgic for his old life, not on the day they swore themselves to each other. </p>
<p>“We’ll have a band and a bard, I plan to commission one to write a song of this night. ‘The night the wolfs kneeled’, has a certain ring to it, no? We have to make sure that our story spreads.”</p>
<p>“Not Valdo,” Geralt repeated. “You don't want him there once we are all honour bound to kill for Jaskier.”</p>
<p>“Noted.” Triss laughed. “Any thoughts on the decor or the clothes?”</p>
<p>“Jaskier likes buttercups, and his eyes are blue,” Geralt frowned after some consideration.</p>
<p>“I’ll keep that in mind,” Triss said with an amused smile. “You know, it is almost winter, and I’ve heard talk of a herd of white wolves around here, the farmers are complaining that they’ve been getting to the sheep. Perhaps you could hunt one down, and have the tailor fasten it to Jaskier’s winter cape?”</p>
<p>Jaskier, wearing the fur of a white wolf, one Geralt had hunted and provided him with, in front of all those people. It was a very pleasant thought.</p>
<p>“Good,” Triss replied to his nod of confirmation. “And he will need a new coat of arms and crest which I'll bring up with him when we speak next.”</p>
<p>“Doesn’t he already have one?”</p>
<p>“He does, but as a bastard with mixed blood, he'd be forced to put a line through it, displaying his blood status and lack of proper nobility,” Triss replied, reminding Geralt of the petty rules and cruelties of nobility. “Those are the rules. Besides, Jaskier seems reluctant to use his family's crest anyways, so we will need to come up with something new. I think a fresh start might be nice for all of us. But why don’t I get started on that and the guest list, you can handle hunting down those wolves.”</p>
<p>As she rose from the table with her notes Triss let out a laugh as she said, “Oh, and if you could please write a letter to Nenneke of the temple of Melitele and tell her that we are quite serious about this. Apparently, she’s met Jaskier, and he didn’t leave her with the best impression.”    </p>
<p>“Why?” Geralt grunted, confused as to why Nenneke was mentioned.</p>
<p>“She will anoint you, before the ceremony.”</p>
<p>“Do we really need that, Triss? We are a bunch of witchers, and you know how I feel about religion. Hell, Jaskier doesn't even believe in it himself.”</p>
<p>“Jaskier said that he didn’t want your ceremony to be any less than a human’s, that he wanted the whole continent to know that in his eyes, you were equal and more than worthy. Geralt, this is an important ceremony, to all of you. Swearing homage, it's a vow so strong and final you may only pledge it once. You will swear to be Jaskier’s man, to submit, to serve, and to defend. Jaskier wants to honour that. He wants to celebrate that.”</p>
<p>Geralt couldn't help but feel a little hot under the collar at Trisses' words, and he couldn’t deny that the anticipation he felt was close to driving him out of his skin. He wanted this over with, he wanted to be bound to Jaskier though his fealty and homage. But he couldn't deny that a part of him did want the Continent to know that Jaskier had chosen <em>him</em>, had chosen <em>his</em> family. That Jaskier was ready to stand in defiance to human rules, was ready to oppose them all should they object. It was heady. </p>
<p>“Traditionally, we wouldn’t go to a priestess of Melitele. They are more for growth and fertility, fields and mothers, not fealty and war. But Jaskier has personally written to Nenneke because he knows that she is probably the only one who is brave enough to anoint witchers and because you trust her. She was a bit sceptical, but she will come if you write to her as well.”</p>
<p>It would be good to see Nenneke again, he thought, though he had no doubt she probably expected him to have lost his head for swearing fealty to that ‘lewd dandy’ as she liked to call Jaskier. Once she saw for herself, however, he knew she would understand.</p>
<p>-----</p>
<p>The night before the ceremony, as the castle was bursting and bustling, full of important guests Geralt couldn't be bothered to learn the names of, and the endless parade of people they’d brought had started arriving, and more were yet to come. They all had to be entertained, wined and dined. </p>
<p>Even Jaskier, who quite enjoyed big gatherings, and was for once the indisputable main attraction, was showing strain if you knew him well enough. Geralt had been lectured about the importance of these men and women all week, and he would have to take Triss’s and Yen’s word for their necessity. But all week he had felt like a forktail in a curiosity exhibition, and he suspected that Jaskier felt the same, when he finally located him at the highest point in one of the watchtowers, with a bottle of wine and a blanket wrapped around himself, as he absent-mindedly strummed his lute. </p>
<p>“Geralt, it feels almost like seeing the bride before the wedding.” Jaskier greeted him, his words sounding like jest, but his tone too solemn for the joke to land. Geralt said nothing, sitting down next to his friend.</p>
<p>“Don't tell me you are nervous?” Geralt asked, as Jaskier lapsed into silence. </p>
<p>“I’m not sure nervous is the right word, but it feels like tomorrow is the beginning of something bigger than me. I’m just little old me, not someone Destiny concerns herself with,” Jaskier sighed. “But it’s like I can feel Her in the air, or am I being overdramatic? Those people only know half the reason this day is so important, they don't know the ways we are changing history tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“You’ll be the first elf to claim land since the great cleansing.” Geralt hummed. </p>
<p>“And I don't even feel like an elf! I don’t act like one, I don’t know their culture, I just happen to have their blood.” Jaskier’s lute let out a discordant sound, and he stopped strumming and instead pulled it closer to his chest and embraced it. </p>
<p>“I’m not ashamed, of either the human or the elvish blood in my veins, but being two halves tends to mean one is never seen as whole by anyone. To the humans, I'll be the first elf, yes. To the elves… I wouldn't be surprised if they found the fact equally distasteful, that some half-human who doesn’t look anything like them will get this credit, rather than some pureblooded elven king.”</p>
<p>Geralt was more than aware of the prejudices of both humans and elves. He wished to comfort Jaskier, but he didn’t know how. Instead, Geralt found himself asking a question that had been bothering him since the relief of Jaskier’s lifespan had settled slightly. </p>
<p>“Why didn’t you ever tell me, Jaskier?”</p>
<p>“Are you upset you didn’t catch on?” Jaskier teased, trying to distract him. “Borch all over again, huh, except this time you had well over twenty years to figure it out.” </p>
<p>That stung enough to momentarily distract Geralt, and Jaskier must have been able to tell, from the snort he let out.</p>
<p>“Don't worry, darling. Without the ears, humans can’t really tell if someone is an elf or not, though they always fancy themselves experts,” Jaskier said, trying to soothe Geralt’s ego, though some amusement made its way into his voice.</p>
<p>“Not a human, and I should have noticed,” he grumbled. “But at least Filavandrel and Chireadan missed you as well.”</p>
<p>“I’m sad to tell you, darling, that neither of them missed me being part elven,” Jaskier replied, the amusement gone from his voice. </p>
<p>“Filavandrel and Toruviel called you human,” Geralt objected. “They had no idea.”</p>
<p>“Oh, they did.” Jaskier paused, “It was meant as an insult at my half-blood status, at my assimilation.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” Geralt asked, thinking back to that day they met. “Elves are always complaining about humans not treating half-elves well.”</p>
<p>“They do complain of that, but they are the ones leaving us on humanity's doorstep. They themselves would never deign to raise a half-human,” Jaskier couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of his voice. “At least humans take us in.” </p>
<p>“But why would he talk to you like that if he knew you were an elf?”</p>
<p>“Not all elves think this way, of course, Chireadan being a prime example. But Filavandrel, you may have noticed, was not fond of assimilation, and a young half-human stinking of humanity, who didn’t even know his own history? Blabbering on about golden palaces as he sat on his ancestors' graves,” Jaskier waved a hand in the air. “Surely you can see why he would take a particular dislike to me at that time? I can’t even say I blame him, though it did quite upset me at the time.”</p>
<p>Jaskier’s fingers were tracing over his lute as he spoke, gaze distant, “I used to think, in my foolish naivete, that being elven and human meant that I belonged to two peoples, that once I aged out off passing as human, I would be welcomed with open arms amongst the elves.” Jaskier let out a derisive laugh at that, as if mocking the naivety of his younger self, and it hurt Geralt to see that loss of hope that clearly still injured his friend. “Instead, I was forced to realise that being both elven and human didn’t mean I belonged to two peoples, it meant I belonged to none. I don’t act like my hardships are similar to yours, but I think you can understand that feeling.”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you tell <em>me</em>, Jaskier?” Geralt asked again.</p>
<p>“Oh, I knew you wouldn’t treat me differently,” Jaskier assured him, reaching towards him to briefly squeeze his hand. “So it never felt necessary to bring up. It’s something I’ve always planned to be discreet about out of respect for the man who raised me, and you know, with people sending elves to reservations and Radovid becoming more and more volatile-”</p>
<p>“You know I can keep a secret. Didn’t you think I’d want to know that your lifespan is equal to mine?” Geralt asked, catching Jaskier’s hand as he tried to retreat, forcing Jaskier into eye contact with him. </p>
<p>“I thought the information might scare you away, actually,” Jaskier finally confessed, “I’m-, I know I’m a bit too much. People enjoy my company, but then all of the sudden, and I never know or understand why, but they can’t take it-, or I guess, me, my company, anymore, and they leave. You would ride away suddenly one day, the Countess would throw me out after a day like any other…” Jaskier clearly wanted to fidget with his hands but Geralt still held onto one with a firm grip, “I thought if you knew you could get stuck with me for centuries you’d run for the hills even more bullheadedly.”</p>
<p>“Jaskier…” Geralt implored. “Surely you still don’t believe that to be true?”</p>
<p>“Most days I simply don’t think about it. I didn’t grow up knowing I was elven, and it’s honestly rare that I’m reminded of it. I’m sorry I didn’t ever tell you.”</p>
<p>That wasn’t an answer, but perhaps the lack of one told Geralt everything he needed to know. He was more than familiar with feeling unwanted, and he was saddened to realise this was something they had always had in common. </p>
<p>“I will swear myself to you tomorrow, Jaskier. So will my brothers. My daughter is your heir. You will always belong to us, and we to you,” as he spoke he raised Jaskier’s hand to his lips and kissed his palm. Tomorrow Jaskier would claim him, tonight it felt as if he was claiming him in return. “We belong with you, and you belong with us.”</p>
<p>“What about if Ciri inherits, or the day arrives when I’m no longer needed or useful and I set out on the road with nothing but my lute to sing merry songs?” Jaskier asked, voice breathless.</p>
<p>“Then I come with you, if that would please you, and we walk the road together again.”</p>
<p>“You would want that?”</p>
<p>“Jaskier, I would want <em>you</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-----</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the morning, Vesemir herded them all into the bathing rooms. They had to take turns cleaning themselves, as all the witchers except Gaetan and Vesemir had chosen to swear homage today. Gaetan had simply not acknowledged what was happening, and Vesemir considered himself too old to change his ways. </p>
<p>There were eleven of them swearing, all together, and Geralt knew that their town was likely the first time so many witchers had been in one place since their schools were sacked. None of their guests had seen more than one witcher at a time, if at all, and he sensed many were there to sate their curiosity. Fine, let them stare, let them see witchers joining arms again, and standing together. Let the world travel far and wide, of the man who brought them together and gave them a home, and of the strength guarding his walls. </p>
<p>Once cleaned, Geralt dressed in his armour with the help of some of the staff, who insisted on brushing his hair, before he entered the room where Nenneke was waiting to anoint him. She was sitting in a chair, two young priestesses flanking her on each side. </p>
<p>“Are you sure about this, Geralt?” She asked as he stepped inside, her shrewd eyes looking into his.</p>
<p>“Yes,” he replied, with no hesitation. </p>
<p>“Well, no one could ever convince you to do anything you didn’t want to do, stubborn as a mule, you always were,” Nenneke said fondly. “If you are sure, and as long as your fellow takes care of you. I don’t want to hear of you two running headfirst into trouble, like you always do when together.”</p>
<p>“I trust Jaskier to lead me right,” Geralt assured her.</p>
<p>“Well, if you are sure,” she said under her breath, and then in a louder voice ordered, “Iola, Eivor, don’t just stand there, fetch the oil-, I tell you, Geralt, the kids are getting lazier and lazier-, finally girl. And you, Geralt, kneel before me, I’m an old lady and you witchers are far too tall, come, come...” </p>
<p>Nenneke dipped her fingers in the oil, tracing runes on his forehead and cheeks. Her face was focused now, and the two young priestesses murmured prayers as she worked. He was glad to have her there, the one person besides Jaskier and his fellow witchers who had always had a place for him whenever he needed it. Who had known him since he was a child, a witcher, and soon, a sworn man.</p>
<p>“There you are, son,” she murmured, “I hope you know what you are getting into.”</p>
<p>“I do,” Geralt promised her.</p>
<p>Geralt walked in silence to wait in the room by the ballroom, joined soon by his brothers.  Glancing at his reflection in the window, he noticed that his hair, combed and styled, looked just how Jaskier had once upon a time styled it, when he had convinced Geralt to act as his guard, dressing him and washing him. A strange foretelling of this day.</p>
<p>One minute time was moving at a snail's pace, and then it sped up to that of a warg, and Triss came and gathered them all, directing them towards the ballroom. People were standing against the sides, quieting in anticipation as they watched the witchers enter the room. They had rearranged the room so that Jaskier was standing in the middle, Yennefer to his right, and Cirilla disguised as a page behind him to his left. Behind them was Jaskier’s new crest, two swords crossed it horizontally and on either side, buttercups were painted. </p>
<p>Geralt couldn’t take his eyes off Jaskier once he spotted him. He had always been a beautiful man, had always dressed rather grandly, but today he was a vision. He looked strong and breathtaking, dressed in the colours Geralt knew he loved, but made grander, befitting of a lord. His cape had the fur of the white wolf Geralt himself had caught, wearing with pride the evidence of Geralt’s skills as a hunter. He looked young in years, but gone were the nerves he had trusted Geralt to witness the previous night, here he gazed at them with the sure eyes of the man that would lead them all. </p>
<p>One by one his fellow witchers knelt in front of Jaskier, and then rose as his men as he kissed their brow, and finally, lastly, it was Geralt's turn. </p>
<p>He knelt before Jaskier on both his knees, and the moment he did, everyone else in the room faded away, and all he could see was Jaskier, all he could hear was his steady heartbeat, and all he could feel and smell was the warmth of his body.    </p>
<p>“I become your man from this day forward, of life and limb, and of earthly worship, and to you, I shall be true and faithful,” Geralt vowed, feeling the truth of the words to his core. He was Jaskier’s man now, to love, to command, to protect, and to guide. </p>
<p>Once he had spoken, Jaskier’s hand caressed his cheek, and he pulled Geralt forward and kissed his brow. Jaskier’s lips felt like a brand, and Geralt closed his eyes tight, chest constricting at everything he was feeling. He could have stayed there on his knees for eternity. </p>
<p>“Rise, Geralt of R-” Jaskier’s voice sounded soft in his ear, as if he was speaking only to him, it made Geralt bold enough to interrupt.</p>
<p>“Geralt of Julian.” Geralt whispered, only loud enough for the two of them. He took hold of Jaskier’s hand, staying on his knees until Jaskier replied, voice a whisper low, eyes just for him. </p>
<p>“Rise, Geralt of Julian.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you everyone commenting and reading! I looked forward to writing the homage scenes, hope you liked them too! &lt;3 </p>
<p>Next chapter we are back with Jaskier again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A bit of a ramble; so in this chapter Jaskier expresses some mixed feelings about being half-elf, and I hope it didn’t come across as too dramatic. I’m personally mixed, and this is my first time exploring that in writing. Identity can be messy, and it shifts and changes as you grow, and so far, Jaskier has been very isolated from his elvish side, and a bit hurt from his initial meeting with them not working out as he had hoped, but at the same time, he has been wanting to find a way to connect but hasn’t known how. I don’t know when I’ll have the time, but I would like to explore that a bit closer in a prequel fic maybe because there wasn’t really a chance to do it justice here. </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An enormous thank you to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider">dragon_rider</a>! Thank you so much for helping me!</p><p>This chapter was inspired by Franz!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Jaskier’s biggest fear had always been to be alone. </p><p>He had never minded his own company, spent stretches of time alone on the road and quite enjoyed it. But ever since the moment he realised that he was ageing in a different way than the rest of his family, this fear of being left behind, left alone, had grown. What would he do when his nieces and nephews had passed, how long could he cling to his family? What would he do when they were all gone? </p><p>Maybe he would still run into Geralt and Yennefer and continue to have adventures with Zoltan. But where would he belong and who would anchor him? Would the years pass slowly? Or would they speed ahead so fast that eventually a human lifespan would become insignificant, and it would be impossible for him to settle down with a human family?</p><p>As the witchers swore themselves to him, and he laid claim to them, he didn’t think they understood the gift they had given him. He felt anchored. He started to believe he might not be fated to be alone. </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>Jaskier had started to get used to witchers sporadically arriving, but this morning he was greeted by a pair of gnomes, the couple Beilt and Kirrent Rottholt had arrived at their gates and asked for an audience.</p><p>“We heard of a town guarded by witchers, and ruled by a new young lord,” Kirrent told him, nervously clutching her hands. “We didn’t know what that meant exactly, but we know Coën, he’s been visiting our shop for decades, and we figured we’d come here and see.”</p><p>“I can vouch for them,” Coën said, from his seat next to the gnomes. “They’ve always treated witchers fair, never raised their prices despite me scaring away a customer or two.”</p><p>“Coën’s friends are my friends,” Jaskier said with a smile, leaning forward. “So tell me, what brings you here?”</p><p>“We make clothing, from the sheep to the shop, as we like to say. It’s been our family trade for generations, until we got a new major, and he’s been taxing us non-humans into starvation. It’s nothing we aren't used to, we were getting by, but then-,” Beilt looked at his wife, who gave a quick nod. “Well, our youngest son, he joined the squirrels you see, and one of our neighbours must have seen him and told the guards, because one morning, they came for him, and when he wasn’t at home, they burned our place to the ground.” </p><p>“We were hoping there might be a place for us here?” Kirrent asked, looking hopefully at Jaskier.</p><p>“Of course there is a place for you here,” Jaskier replied with a smile. “I’d be honoured to have you with us.”</p><p>The Rottholt’s were the first, but word spread, and slowly new arrivals trickled in. An elvish bookseller set up shop, dwarven armourers and leather workers arrived, correctly guessing that a town of witchers would be in need of their craft. Soon followed a halfling cattle farmer and her family. </p><p>There had been some tension initially. Vaasa had never been a very diverse town, but the arriving business was helping the inhabitants with new customers and much-needed services, so for now, at least they had avoided issues from the humans. Jaskier wasn’t naive, however, and he was carefully monitoring the situation as more and more non-humans settled into the town. He knew he risked creating tension, but he didn’t want his city to be segregated, like in Novigrad and most cities he had visited, where most of the non-humans lived in a separate part of town or even outside its protective borders. Jaskier was adamant about the children attending school together, and no one being excluded from business or housing, but he wasn’t a fool; he knew humans, and so he had tasked his witchers to be on the lookout for any behaviour that might need to be addressed. </p><p>He remembered being in Oxenfurt, in an institution that only accepted humans, despite the very buildings they were taught in having been built by elves. When he was young, Jaskier had always liked to consider himself quite the intellectual, but it wasn’t until that day in Posada, that he actually started realising that there was a lot they were taught not to know. <em>Respect doesn’t make history,</em> he thought as he tapped the glass on his office window, <em>but what if we give it enough time to become history?</em></p><p><em>I have so much time</em>, he thought. </p><p>He had asked Chireadan once, how long half-elves lived, and the elf hadn’t been quite sure, ‘barely a millennium<em>’</em> he had replied, putting a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder and looking sad, as if already mourning for his short life. ‘Perhaps five to seven centuries? I’ve heard of half-elves who’ve lived that long’. The enormity of that time had terrified him back then. </p><p>But maybe there was a use for all that time, maybe this was how he filled it? Maybe, he thought with a smile as he looked at Geralt, who was sharpening his sword by Jaskier’s desk, these were the people he filled it with. </p><p>----- </p><p>Jaskier was walking around the farms, having a look at how the winter oats were coming along, when Triss appeared in front of him, right on top of a big pile of manure. </p><p>“Oh drats,” she huffed, taking his hand and using magic to clean her clothes. “The smell is going to stick,” she complained. “It always does.”</p><p>“It’s good to see you, Triss, what brings you?” Jaskier asked with a delighted smile.</p><p>“Nothing good. Let’s move inside to talk, I already sent a message to Yennefer.”</p><p>In Jaskier’s office, they found Yennefer, Geralt, Lambert, Vesemir, and Eskel already waiting, and Jaskier wasted no time, taking his seat and gesturing for Triss to start speaking. </p><p>“The scoia'tael have been causing problems along the Yaruga, they seem to have a new base near Bogrod,” Triss started, voice serious. “They’ve been hindering business in both Verden and Brugge, killing fishermen and traders and fighting against the guards.”</p><p>“Are the scoia’tael headed our way?” Eskel asked, frowning.</p><p>“No, but the city of Bogrod has decided to retaliate,” Triss replied. “They aim to incite a pogrom that will target the non-humans. Bogrod has a sizable number of settled elves and dwarfs. If the riots start, it will be a bloodbath.”</p><p>“How do you know this, Triss?” Jaskier asked, leaning forward in his chair.</p><p>“A Temarian spy that I’m still close with,” Triss replied with a sly wink. “She sent me a message this morning, she knows I’m close to you and this place.” </p><p>“And she is hoping I’ll intervene? That I’ll attack Bogrod.”</p><p>“Yes, rumour has spread that you offer sanctuary to non-humans, that you accept everyone.”</p><p>“This could be a trap, Triss. They see a young and naive lord, an idealist, and they lure him to attack a major city because once he does, he is a proven threat.” Jaskier cautioned.</p><p>“You can’t just gamble with their lives, Jaskier! If we don’t help they could die,” Triss burst out. </p><p>“No, I can’t,” Jaskier agreed. “Because whether this pogrom is due to the scoia’tael or us, I have no doubt it will happen. There are enough Cintran refugees settled there, add the resentment growing against the scoia’tael, and a pogrom will be laughably easy to incite. But we must be strategic if we aim to act.”</p><p>“What difference does it make if it’s because of us or scoia’tael?” Eskel asked. </p><p>“If it’s because of the scoia’tael, it's relatively straightforward; we ride in, and we stop the pogrom. All we are up against are rioters and perhaps some armoured guards,” Jaskier said, waving his hands as he thought out loud. “If it's a trap there will be an army hiding somewhere waiting to ambush us, either in Bogrod or here. That’s the difference.”</p><p>“Why the games, why not just attack us?” Vesemir asked.</p><p>“They might fear us enough once word spread of a witcher army, that the king feels like he has to remove their choice in the matter. If people believe a witcher lord is going to conquer them, they will have to rise and fight. If we take Bogrod, no matter our intentions, that’s how it will look.”</p><p>“Is there any way to not, I don’t know, walk into a trap?” Eskel asked, sounding tired. </p><p>“There is leaving the non-humans of Bogrod to fend for themselves, and to offer sanctuary to any survivors. Stay passive as they provoke us, rely on the fear of the king's vassals holding off any attack.”</p><p>“So our choices are fighting an army, or leaving the non-humans to their fate?” Lambert snorted. “Great.”</p><p>“We don’t have enough men to fight a whole army,” Jaskier cursed. “And no way of knowing how big the attack will be.”</p><p>“Jaskier, have you considered reaching out to the scoia’tael?” Geralt asked, speaking up for the first time.</p><p>“There is no reason to believe that they would come to our aid,” Jaskier replied. “We have some non-humans here, but they aren’t exactly known to go easy on a town because of that, just look at Bogrod.”</p><p>“As a half-elf lord trying to defend your people, which includes a significant non-human population, you could try reaching out to them,” Geralt urged. </p><p>“The scoia’tael are known for leaving those that don't join them at the mercy of the humans,” Jaskier countered. “Why would we be different?”</p><p>“The scoia’tael only have enough fighters to cause trouble, but they aren’t strong enough to overthrow cities or lay siege to them. You already have. If you reach out to them, they might aid you. They’d be idiots not to,” Geralt replied. </p><p>“They have no idea that Lord Julian, newly of Vaasa, is a half-elf they might wish to aid, how would we even find them to ask?”</p><p>“I’ve run into them once or twice. If you allow it, I will find their camp and bring their leader to you. Even if they were to refuse, you will lose nothing by asking.”</p><p><em>If they refuse to come, I’ll lose any shred of hope that the elves might accept me as one of them</em>, Jaskier thought briefly, <em>but this isn’t about me</em>. </p><p>“I’ll permit it, Geralt, tonight in the cover of darkness you ride out,” Jaskier nodded. “Triss, I want you to portal to Bogrod, take the xenovox. Look around if you can get away with it, and once they begin the pogrom, you contact me and open a portal, and I’ll send reinforcements at once.”</p><p>“We need to know if there is an army gathered, and where it will march, here or Bogrod.” Jaskier said decisively. “Yennefer, I need your help to organize wards that will warn us if people march on our perimeter, and I need it to be big enough that we have half a day's warning.”</p><p>“Such a spell will take most of my concentration, but it can be done. I’ll ride out tonight.” Yennefer agreed in an even voice. </p><p>“Take Lambert with you. You will be able to drop the wards once we know they are here, hopefully, that will give you time to recover for the fight if it reaches our outer walls. If they attack us here, it will be you, Triss, who will need to portal the witchers to Bogrod and help them stop the pogrom and size control,” Jaskier instructed, pacing around the room as he planned.  </p><p>“Eskel, in Bogrod the witchers will need to act fast and decisive, the lust for violence will increase by the second,” Jaskier instructed. “Humans will need to die at your hands if they can’t be subdued. With that in mind, I wish you pick four men you trust to manage in such a situation without escalating it. We will not be able to offer you much support, you and Triss will need to stay and take charge until things are under control here.”</p><p>“Us interfering, it will have consequences,” Jaskier sighed. “We will, to the outside world, look dangerous and battle-hungry.”</p><p>“If this is the course of action you’ve decided to take, we will have to deal with the consequences once we are on the other side, but until then it can wait.”</p><p>“You are right, Yennefer,” Jaskier acknowledged with a sigh. “Well, you all have your orders, the faster we act the better. Ah, but first, gather all the witchers who have sworn me fealty in the ballroom, they should hear from me what will be happening.”</p><p>The other left to either gather the witchers or walked towards the ballroom, but Jaskier gestured for Yennefer to stay behind. </p><p>“You would tell me wouldn’t you, if you thought I was wrong?” Jaskier implored. “You’ve never been afraid to question me before, and you and Triss, you are the two with experience in court politics and war. I may be a noble, but you were a royal advisor to kings for longer than I’ve been alive.”</p><p>“If I thought you were wrong, Jaskier, I’d tell you,” Yennefer smirked, in that arrogant way of hers that had become strangely reassuring. “But a ruler’s burden is to make the decisions.”</p><p>“Ruler seems to me a rather grand title for the lord of a small township, Yennefer,” Jaskier smiled, before becoming serious once more. “I know you didn’t care for it much, and that I can hardly afford to offer you what a king would, but I’m asking if you’d be my advisor.”</p><p>“What exactly <em>can</em> you afford to offer, Jaskier?” </p><p>“A few scoops of wheat, a short travelling distance to your place of work, and a charming coworker, meaning me of course. Oh and you can boss Eskel around on Tuesdays,” Jaskier smirked. “I’d like to see a king compete with those terms, eh?”</p><p>“I can teleport, and Eskel already does what I tell him to,” Yennefer replied. “But yes Jaskier, I’ll provide advice when you need it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Grand,” Jaskier said, clapping his hands together. “Now let's go to war.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“My dear men. Thank you for coming,” Jaskier addressed the witchers who had gathered. “Time has unfortunately already come for me to ask for you to fight.”</p><p>“It’s what we signed up for, Jaskier, don’t look so glum,” Lambert said from the front row, Eskel gave him a shove for the interruption, but the support lifted Jaskier’s spirits. </p><p>“We have received warning that Bogrod will soon face a pogrom, targeting all its non-humans. I stood with the choice of lending aid to them or standing by, and I’ve chosen to aid them,” his words were met with murmurs of approval. “It is likely that this is a trap, a way for the king of these lands to make us seem violent, dangerous. Even knowing this, I’ve chosen to act.”</p><p>“We aren’t afraid,” Derrym said, to shouts of approval.</p><p>“We will be reaching out to our friends for aid, including the scoia’tael, if they choose to accept. We don’t know if we stand alone or not, but we will fight.” Jaskier proclaimed, his voice ringing out loud and clear. “Eskel will take some of you aside, the rest will receive orders from me. From this moment on you need to stand ready, stand armed, and stand prepared. When I give my word, we will defend this place, and we will defend the non-humans of Bogrod.”</p><p>After he spoke, the witchers roared their approval. </p><p>The following hour was spent giving orders and assigning tasks. When it was all said and done and the witchers started trickling out of the room to start their preparations and rest before the battle, Geralt walked up to Jaskier.</p><p>“May I have something of yours, Jaskier, to bring with me?”</p><p>“Of course Geralt, anything that’s mine is yours, you know that. What do you need?”</p><p>“I’ve heard that a knight facing battle, if worthy, can receive a lord’s or lady’s favour, to bring with them for luck,” as Geralt spoke he walked closer to Jaskier, taking his hand and bringing it close to his face, kissing it softly while maintaining eye contact the whole while. The touch felt like electricity, it sent Jaskier’s whole body aflame “I’d like to carry my Lord’s favour if he’d permit it.”</p><p>“I-, um-” Jaskier stammered, too flustered for a moment to form a reply. “Geralt, what favour of mine would you desire?”</p><p>“The nights and days away from you are dreary, I’d ask for a token that would keep your presence at my side.”</p><p>Jaskier took a moment to consider how best to fulfil Geralt’s request. He had many brooches or rings he could gift him, however, they didn’t feel quite right, at least not for this moment. Instead, he reached inside his doublet pocket for his handkerchief. He’d bought it from the tailor in town, and it was embroidered with small yellow buttercups, with a J stitched in one of the sides. It was clean, but he’d had it in his pocket all day, and before that, it had been in his room. It would carry his scent. </p><p>“My favour, may it keep the thought of me alive and at your side until you return safely to me once more,” Jaskier murmured softly, voice a bit unsteady, as he handed over his handkerchief.   </p><p>Geralt raised the handkerchief to his nose and breathed in, and he was so close now that Jaskier could see his pupils dilating at his scent. He then reverently placed the delicate fabric into his front pocket, maintaining eye contact with Jaskier all the while as he took a step back and bowed. </p><p>As he walked out of the audience room, the witchers that had been standing in wait marched out behind him.</p><p>When they’d left, Lambert turned to him and said. “Only the two of you could make handing over a small piece of cloth that dramatic! Did we truly all have to be here for this strange and repressed courting ritual?”</p><p>“Do be quiet, that was the single most erotic thing I’ve experienced, and I’ve been to many an orgy,” Jaskier replied slapping Lambert on the shoulder.</p><p>“It wasn't that exciting, Jaskier. I think you might need to get out more if a tissue gets you this flustered. Look at you, bard, you’ve gone all pink,” Yennefer snarked from the side.  </p><p>Jaskier didn’t need outside confirmation to know he was quite flushed, he was quite aware. The act of asking someone for a favour, it held meaning. It was traditionally done with the intention to court someone. Geralt must know this, Jaskier thought, unable to suppress a smile as he stared at the back of his hand. </p><p>-----</p><p>The following day was a blur of activities, Yennefer spent the whole day setting up wards to warn them of arrivals, and when she was done, she and Jaskier did their best to reach out to any connections they could think of to gather information. Everything seemed to point to his suspicion. This was a trap. Now they just had to hope that this warning was enough to ensure their victory. </p><p>However, it appeared they hadn’t been the only ones to reach out to contacts, they ended up having to call Triss back for a few hours so she could assist Yennefer in opening portals to the witchers who came to offer them aid. Jaskier was spending most of the day running back towards the courtyard to greet their new arrivals.</p><p>Oh <em>hello</em>. When the bears- </p><p>“Ursine witchers, Jaskier.” Lambert corrected.</p><p>When the ursine witchers arrived Jaskier let out a wistful sigh and cocked his head to the side in admiration. They certainly lived up to the name, dressed in furs, bearded, and very, <em>very</em> big and broad. They started to approach Jaskier, who turned to Lambert and whispered mournfully. “Oh, to be a young and free man, had I met them before the burdens of responsibility fell on me I would have given them a <em>very</em> different greeting.”</p><p>“Behave, Jaskier,” Lambert laughed as the new witchers approached.</p><p>“I am Aapo, and these are my brothers, we received word that you were in need of aid,” the man at the front spoke, addressing Jaskier. “We heard that this is a safe place for witchers and non-humans alike, where human rules don’t dictate our worth.”</p><p>“You have heard correctly,” Jaskier confirmed. “I must warn you that this is not a rich land that can grandly reward brave heroes and their deeds. It is simply my little town, where I do my best to ensure everyone's rights and dignities. I greatly appreciate you coming to our aid.”</p><p>“That is a rare ambition for a human to have,” the ursine witcher said in a sceptical tone. </p><p>“It is not had by a human,” Jaskier replied, taking a deep breath before continuing. “At least not a full one. I’m a half-elf, with no right to this land under human laws.”</p><p>“Well, well. That’s interesting. Are you scoia’tael?” the witcher asked. </p><p>“No, though their aid is invited. I was just someone who decided to stay. Who got tired of hiding and passing. I’ve not taken any grand stand or declared war on humanity, I’m just defending my borders and my people.” Jaskier said, looking their new arrivals in the eyes, “Will you fight for us? I have precious little to give in return, except the offer of a door always open, should you wish for a place to rest your head, or a permanent position at my side, should you desire it.”</p><p>“We will fight for you, Lord Julian,” the man replied. “Our reward will be the knowledge that this place remains.”</p><p>As one, the witchers knelt. </p><p>-------   </p><p> </p><p>Just when they had gotten the new witchers settled, Geralt returned, and behind him was a tall elf with red cloth wrapped around his head covering what looked like a scar; his clothes were the earthy green tones favoured by the Scoia’tael, as it hid them in their trees. He was walking tall and proud, from his confidence Jaskier assumed he was the scoia’tael leader. You could tell with a glance that he was pure-blooded.  Behind him followed three elves and one dwarf, all highly armoured. Jaskier hoped there were more waiting outside their walls.</p><p>They didn't stop until they reached Jaskier. </p><p>Geralt gave a bow before speaking, “Jaskier, this is Iorveth -” </p><p>“Geralt told me that one of my kind had claimed lordship over a town,” the elf drawled, interrupting Geralt’s introduction, “and yes, you clearly have some of our blood, but you look more dh'oine than anything.”</p><p>“A human birthed me, and they raised me, it is no surprise I look like them,” Jaskier replied, eyes tracking the scoia’tael leader as he moved closer.</p><p>“Do you stand with the scoia’tael, Lord Julian Alfred Pankratz?” Iorveth asked almost lazily, then seemingly changing the subject, he said, “do you know the meaning of your name?”</p><p>“It stands for youthful elf friend, my mother hoped that it would please my kind,” Jaskier replied coolly, cocking his head to the side. “If my elven father had any desires to name me, he didn’t express them.”</p><p>“So you speak some elder, well done,” the elf drawled with a sarcastic clap of his hands. </p><p>“As for your first questions, no, I do not declare war with all of humanity, I’m but a lord of a small township.” Jaskier continued evenly, refusing to rise to the other elf’s bait. “However, we have staked our claim to this land and I do not recognize the human restrictions that would delegitimize my claim due to my blood, or treat my witchers or my people as less, due to their mutations or blood. We intend to stand up and fight for the non-humans in Bogrod, and to defend our lands when they are attacked. Will the scoia’tael stand with us?”</p><p>“The scoia’tael serves no master,” Iorveth replied, looking intently at Jaskier.</p><p>“I do not demand fealty or service, all I’m asking for is aid for our fellow non-humans.” </p><p>“This land you have claimed, do you claim it for yourself, for elves, for riches?” the scoia’tael leader asked, gaze intent as he waited for Jaskier’s answer.</p><p>“We claim a place for <em>us</em>. So far that includes witchers, gnomes, elves, dwarfs, and humans. And any mix in between, most of us are no purebloods,” Jaskier said with a sharp smile. “I drive no one out and I welcome all to stand free and equal on this land.”</p><p>A slow smile spread over the elf’s face, “I’ve lived a long time, my youthful elf friend, I have fought with the best of our kind, and I command an army, why should I bend the knee to you?”</p><p>“I require no bent knees. All I ask today is your assistance in fighting the humans that would drive us away and slaughter our siblings in Bogrod. Any experience you have in battle I will gladly listen to. Do we have your aid?”</p><p>There was a long pause as Iorveth took him in, and Jaskier met his challenging gaze with his own. </p><p>“You have the aid of the scoia’tael, young one,” the scoia’tael commander declared.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Julian Alfred actually does actually mean youthful elf-friend (or elf counsel), if you look up the name meaning! So I decided to pretend it means that in Elder, just because I think it’s a cool bit of trivia.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The last chapter! (I know there were supposed to be two more but I realised they were a bit short and it might be nicer to combine them into one)</p><p>This was my frist time on a longer chaptered fic and I’ve had a blast! Thank you everyone who commented and left kudos and those who cheered me on in discord, it meant so much! </p><p>An enormous thank you to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider">dragon_rider</a>! Thank you so much for helping me through this!</p><p>CW for this chapter: explicit sex, scroll down to end notes to see where it ends and begins if you wish to skip it :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It has started.” Triss’s voice rang from the xenovox, and a moment later she had opened a portal into the ballroom, which had been converted into a place to gather their fighters and hold meetings. They could hear shouting and see people running behind her. </p><p>“Eskel,” Jaskier’s voice rang out, “gather your men and leave with Triss at once.”</p><p>Eskel, and the witcher he had chosen to accompany him made their way into the portal and left without a backwards glance. </p><p>“They are riding towards us, half a day and they will reach the outer walls,” Yennefer suddenly announced, back straight and violet eyes alight as she felt the soldiers pass through her wards, closing her eyes and focusing she said, “they have over two hundred men.”</p><p>“They plan to strike at dawn then,” Jaskier whispered, for a moment gripped by fear, until he forced himself to focus. “Geralt, Iorveth, Yennefer, and Aapo, you know what to do,” Jaskier ordered his advisors. </p><p>Jaskier had never been a soldier or a commander. He had never been to war. When it came to planning fighting methods he had listened closely to the advice of his experts. However, they had a disadvantage in the fact that the scoia’tael were a guerilla force, not an army, and witchers rarely fought with others. None of his men had experience in traditional warfare. This put a lot of pressure on Jaskier and his ability to think tactically and to guide his fighters. </p><p>They hoped to keep the town spared from any fighting by meeting the soldiers outside the outer walls. A siege wasn’t an option for them at this stage, they needed to win this fight. </p><p>Jaskier, Cirilla, and Yennefer rode to the highest watchtower, where Yennefer would support by magic, staying connected to Jaskier through telepathy. The witchers were making themselves ready in the formations Jaskier had been drilling into them the past few days, and the scoia’tael were walking on top of the outer wall, where they would hide their archers. Iorveth was guiding his fighters to the best spots, and Ciaran, who had joined them with more fighters once Iorveth sent out word, was marching along the wall, eyes sharp and focused.    </p><p>Jaskier and his advisers had done all they could think of. They were as prepared as they were going to be. Now they had to wait. </p><p>The night felt like weeks. It felt like seconds. </p><p>“Jaskier? Yennefer?” Triss’s voice called from the xenovox.</p><p>“Triss, how are you? Do you need support?” Jaskier replied as he fumbled with the magical device. </p><p>“The riots are under control, we stopped them before they could get out of hand. I’ll let you know if there are any other developments, but the men you sent should be enough to keep the city in check. I’ll debrief once you are safe.”</p><p>“Thank you, Triss, stay safe,” Jaskier said in goodbye, breathing out a small sigh of relief. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I want to stand with the witchers and fight!” Cirilla demanded as she watched the men below prepare. </p><p>“You will have plenty of chances to fight, Cirilla,” Jaskier replied, turning to look at the young woman. “But there is more to war than fighting and holding a sword, though that's a formidable skill. You must also be able to lead your fighters, which is why you are here with me.”</p><p>“I understand, I just feel useless here. I’ve been training for so long, and now I can’t even be down there putting my training to use.” Cirilla lamented, coming to stand by his side and turning her eyes towards the horizon Jaskier had been watching. </p><p>Jaskier knew he would die before he let any real harm come to Cirilla, that her place in history was more important than his. But he had seen her fight and knew that her skills with blade and magic had grown strong. </p><p>He knew that they needed to trust her, or they’d fill her with doubt. </p><p>“I have a very lovely sword Cirilla, and it matches my outfit splendidly, but it’s been more than thirty years since I took any lessons. If something happens here, can I count on you to protect me?” Jaskier asked her. </p><p>As he spoke, he saw her spine straighten and her gaze turn sharp, from a young woman feeling powerless to a fierce and protective guard. </p><p>“You have my word, Jaskier, that I will protect you,” Cirilla promised, crossing her arm over her chest and bending her head forward slightly. </p><p>This was wholly inappropriate, Jaskier knew, a princess, deferring to a small lord in such a way, a half-blooded bastard pretender in the eyes of a continent. But he couldn’t take it back, when he saw her scout their surroundings, her body language now confident and sharp.</p><p>He cast a glance at Yennefer out of the corner of his eye, aware that he should have consulted her and Geralt first. Her face was inscrutable, and he had to rely on the fact that she would have stopped it if she had disagreed. He didn’t have time to linger. </p><p>The armies were approaching, Jaskier could make out the banners for three of the lords in Verden, all with estates nearby, but not the king's own banners. He didn’t doubt who had brought them all here; why he’d chosen to hide his involvement, Jaskier would have to ponder later. </p><p>“Come, Cirilla, we need to get down to the outer wall,” Jaskier said. “Yennefer, be in my thoughts, you’ll know when we need your power against the soldiers. Until then, start conjuring the mist.”</p><p>They were playing to their strengths, Jaskier thought, as they descended from the watchtower. Their senses were stronger. Their warriors were fiercer. <em>We will look like their nightmares come to life when we come out of the shadows. </em></p><p>As the soldiers marched, the mist around the wall grew so thick Jaskier and Ciri had to strain their eyes to see. </p><p>“Iorveth,” Jaskier commanded. “Get the scoia’tael in position, and when they are in range, I want you to fire.”</p><p>Iovreth let out a low whistle, and Jaskier could hear the archers taking aim. He walked to the edge of the wall and looked below, sighting Geralt’s white hair.</p><p>“Geralt, the scoia’tael stands ready, they will fire three times, and then you attack.”</p><p>“I haven’t forgotten, Jaskier,” Geralt replied, looking up. </p><p>“I suppose I just wished to hear your voice,” Jaskier confessed with a worried smile.</p><p>“I’ll bring you this victory, Jaskier. I will do my part in keeping our people safe,” Geralt replied, gaze soft and determined. “And then I’ll be back by your side. I promise.”</p><p>Jaskier knew Geralt was too far down for him to reach, but he leaned over the edge of the wall and reached down with his hand anyway. Geralt kissed his own fingertips before reaching up and brushing them against the tips of Jaskier’s fingers. </p><p>“My lord,” Geralt murmured, as Jaskier withdrew his hand and touched his fingers to his lips. </p><p>“My Geralt,” Jaskier whispered. “Stay safe.”</p><p>“I’ll return to your side soon,” Geralt promised, eyes shining with intensity. </p><p>They didn’t have time to linger any longer, as Iorveth’s whistle sounded, and seconds later, the scoia'tael arrows flew.   </p><p>The fighting had begun. </p><p>A strange calm descended over Jaskier, as he walked the wall. His fighters didn’t need much support, but he wanted to be out where he could see them. He did end up having to call out, “Shields!” multiple times, as the witchers were unfamiliar with employing them in battle, used to relying on their quick reflexes. But a messy battle with noise and chaos and mist wasn’t the same as battling a monster in a still forest. The chaos was bound to distract the senses, and Jaskier didn’t want them taking unnecessary risks. </p><p>“Yennefer,” Jaskier called, as he spotted the attacking soldiers change formation. “Vanish their arrows! Fuck it, burn their bows if you can, one less thing to look out for!”</p><p>Yennefer let out a savage laugh at his request. “Easy.”</p><p>“Good, then I want you to put the fear of the gods in their horses, I want them running away from the battle and I want their knights and fighters on foot.”</p><p>He could feel Yennefer’s acknowledgement in his mind, before she focused on gathering Chaos to her. When he looked over at the scoia’tael he noticed that the battle was getting too messy for some of the archers, the targets moving too fast in the midst of battle, and they were holding their arrows out of fear of hitting one of their own. </p><p>“Iorveth, keep your best archers here, but send the rest to fight. If we act decisively, we might yet secure a fast victory.”</p><p>As the scoia’tael joined the fray, dwarven axes and elven swords swinging, Jaskier could see that they would soon have taken care of most of the foot soldiers, and indeed, the knights were finally approaching. On foot, and not looking very confident as they walked towards the fight. </p><p>Jaskier knew they were likely skilled fighters, but they would be no match for his witchers. Geralt was making his way towards the knights, followed by the rest of Jaskier’s sworn witchers, the scoia’tael busy handling the last of the soldiers. </p><p>“Want me to take them out?” Yennefer asked him, voice curling around in his mind. “They are so few it will barely strain me.”</p><p>“Increase their fear, just a little.” Jaskier requested, gaze focused on the approaching knights. </p><p>As Yennefer’s magic took hold, most of the knights remained steadfast, but Jaskier saw them glance towards their lords. He wanted to see if the fear of their knights would halt them, make them finally surrender and spare their remaining men. The lords must see that there was no point in pushing anymore, the victory was Jaskier’s. </p><p>The lords stood unmoved. </p><p>“More?” Yennefer asked, showing Jaskier glimpses of just what she could do. She was as tempting and dangerous as a djinn, he thought, but their connection also allowed him to feel her exhaustion. She had been using too much magic, more and she would burn out again. </p><p>“No, no more,” Jaskier replied, “They will do my witchers the honour of dying by their hands, if their lords don’t see fit to end this. Keep an eye out though, and if need be tip the victory in their favour.”  </p><p>Geralt, Lambert, and Coën made quick work of their opponents, strong and sure despite having fought for hours, and finally, the lords surrendered. </p><p>“Secure them,” Jaskier called out to the men below. “Arrange a guard, then clean up, and rest. Tomorrow we have to clean these fields so that we aren’t overrun with necrophages.”</p><p>“They will stay as hostages until their families come to bargain for them,” Jaskier informed Cirilla in a lower voice. “We might as well, we need the money, but I don’t have time to speak with them tonight. They shall have to swallow that insult.”</p><p>“Eskel, Triss?” Jaskier called, speaking into the xenovox he pulled from his pocket. “How are you faring?”</p><p>“We are doing fine, Jaskier.” Triss’s voice replied. “But I needed to keep all the witchers with me, I hope that's alright. The crowd here was a little harder to keep under control than expected. But we do have control. How is the fight going, Jaskier?”</p><p>“We won. I’m sending a few more men to you, Triss. If you open a portal in five hours time to the ballroom they will be waiting, I sent them to get some rest first so that your men can rest when they arrive. I’ll speak to you in the morning, unless there is something else you need?”</p><p>“We will be fine, Jaskier.”</p><p>All urgent matters settled, Jaskier started to make his way down, having brief words with Iorveth and Lambert, but truth be told, he couldn’t quite remember what he had told them. Now that he could finally breathe out, exhaustion was setting in. Ciri escorted him all the way to his room, and if they spoke he couldn’t remember it. </p><p>The certainty and focus that had accompanied him in the midst of battle, as he gave orders and made decisions, had abandoned him. It was as if the worry and doubt he had been repressing flooded over him, and made to drown everything else out. </p><p>He was just Jaskier, some idiot with a lute, what on earth had made him believe he belonged out there commanding over witchers and soldiers? Yet somehow, he had gotten them through not just alive, but victorious. </p><p>There was a knock on the door, and staff arrived bringing up a bath. “We were told to bring this up, but that you’d manage on your own lord Julian,” Eva said, as they began the process of filling it. All Jaskier could do was to nod absent-mindedly.</p><p>As the servants got ready to leave, Geralt walked through the door and towards him, taking his hand gently as he stood before him and placing a kiss on the back of it, breathing him in.</p><p>“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, surprised at his friend's arrival.</p><p>“Let me take care of you tonight?” Geralt asked, still holding Jaskier’s hand in his.</p><p>“You are the one that fought, Geralt, shouldn't I be taking care of you?” Jaskier asked. “There is even a bath here, for old times.”</p><p>“I’ve already bathed,” Geralt replied, and only now did Jaskier notice that he was dressed in clean clothes, some loose trousers and a black shirt, his hair damp and drying. He must have been lost in thought for longer than he had realised. “Please, Jaskier. Let me.”</p><p>“Anything you want, Geralt,” Jaskier replied, squeezing Geralt’s hand. “All you need to do is ask, and it’s yours.”</p><p>Slowly, almost reverently, Geralt started to peel off Jaskier's layers. When Jaskier tried to assist, Geralt pushed his hands gently away, and then he carefully started opening Jaskier’s doublet. With the final button unbuttoned, his hands traced over Jaskier’s torso as he moved to slowly push the fabric over Jaskier’s shoulders. </p><p>Geralt carefully placed the garment on the chair, before moving back and silently tugging at Jaskier’s chemise, from where it had been tucked into his trousers. Once the lacing around his neck was loosened, Jaskier raised his hands up so that Geralt could remove it.</p><p>Jaskier’s trousers were tucked into his boots, and Geralt knelt down to remove them, expectantly waiting for Jaskier to raise his foot and place it in his hand. Jaskier didn’t have to worry about losing his balance, Geralt kept a firm and steady hand on his thigh, while the other hand traced down to his calf as he slowly removed Jaskier’s boots. </p><p>Geralt rose and once he was back on his feet he started to unlace Jaskier’s trousers, tugging them and Jaskier’s small clothes off, and Jaskier placed a hand on Geralt’s shoulder for balance as he stepped out of them.  </p><p>They had travelled together for twenty-two years, and they had undressed each other a few times during those years, usually due to Geralt’s injuries or that one time Jaskier was dropped into a frozen lake by a Griffin. Never before had it felt this charged. </p><p>When Jaskier stood nude before him, Geralt traced his gaze along Jaskier’s body, before taking his hand and leading him into the tub. </p><p>The warm water felt heavenly. Geralt poured some salts into the tub, and after sniffing at the scented oils, he located the scents Jaskier favoured.</p><p>“You are tense, Jaskier, relax.” Geralt urged him softly. </p><p>“So much could have gone wrong,” Jaskier whispered in reply, hands restlessly tracing the edge of the tub. “I keep replaying things in my mind...”</p><p>“It’s over. Let me help you get your mind off it, so that you can rest.”</p><p>“What if I had failed, what if one day I do fail?” Jaskier couldn't help but ask, knuckles turning white as he held on to the edge of the tub. “If I make a mistake and people pay with their lives.”</p><p>“One day you will make a mistake, Jaskier. Or you will do everything right, and yet things still won’t go your way.”</p><p>“Well, that's cheerful.”</p><p>“One day, you will make a mistake. And the next day, you will work to set it right, because that's who you are. And your friends will help,” Geralt continued, as if Jaskier hadn’t interrupted him. “Today, things worked out. Tonight, you can breathe out.”</p><p>“Let me help you relax, Jaskier.” Geralt requested once more, gently dislodging Jaskier’s clenched fingers and pushing him to lean back with a hand on his chest. This time Jaskier gave his permission by closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in, and then out. </p><p>Geralt started rubbing a soapy washcloth along all the available skin, then shampooing his hair, strong fingers slowly rubbing out the tension in his scalp and neck. </p><p>When Jaskier was clean and the water started to feel cool, Geralt helped him out of the tub, rubbing him dry from his hair to his feet, grimacing just a bit when Jaskier shook his head like a dog and got Geralt a little wet in return. </p><p>Geralt reached for Jaskier’s nightshirt but hesitated. “You still look tense. May I help you with that?”  </p><p>Jaskier wasn’t quite sure if that was true anymore, but he’d never deny Geralt anything. “You may.”</p><p>“Lie down on your front,” Geralt instructed him, and as Jaskier did, Geralt walked towards the nightstand and grabbed a vial of lavender scented oil, which he warmed by rubbing his hands together before straddling Jaskier’s lower back and starting to rub his shoulders. </p><p>It felt heavenly. </p><p>Geralt’s hands were strong and sure as they massaged the tenseness out of his body, and Jaskier found himself slowly relaxing into the mattress, anchored by the steadiness and strength of Geralt’s hands. The stress of his responsibilities, the battle, receded. All that was left were them. </p><p>Geralt slowly shifted down his body, and while his hands dragged along Jaskier’s buttocks, they didn’t linger there. Jaskier remembered when their roles had been reversed, and the teasing he had bestowed on his witcher, and he smiled into the pillow. </p><p>Geralt was now rubbing down his thighs, then bending his leg to properly rub the soles of his feet. Just when Jaskier assumed he was done, his hands moved upwards again, as if he had finally gathered the courage. His movements were no different from before, except perhaps a bit slower, as his hands moved over Jaskier’s arse.</p><p>“Please.” Geralt groaned. </p><p>“Ask,” Jaskier demanded in a soft whisper. </p><p>“Can I touch you?” Geralt asked, fingers unconsciously squeezing Jaskier’s buttocks. </p><p>“Yes,” Jaskier breathed out, and then drew a sharp breath in as Geralt poured some oil directly onto the cleft of his arse. </p><p>Geralt fingers started to explore the moment he was granted permission. Pulling his cheeks apart and slowly tracing his fingertips towards Jaskier’s hole. He teased around the rim, stroking it with the pad of his thumb, before slowly pushing his finger inside. Jaskier was already so relaxed, he found no difficulty in letting Geralt inside. </p><p>“Jaskier,” Geralt groaned, and when Jaskier turned his head he almost laughed at the look of total concentration on Geralt’s face. Then Geralt added another finger and twisted them just so, and pleasure washed over him. Geralt kept a steady and sure pace with his fingers, and the pleasure slowly built inside Jaskier. At first, it was almost relaxing, but after a while, it started to almost feel like a tease. It felt <em>good</em>, but it was too shallow, too slow, to take him where he wanted to go. He noticed he had grabbed the sheets into his fists, and he pulled his right leg up, desperate to get some leverage to push back onto those fingers. To get more. The steady movement of Geralt’s fingers never faltered or sped up, and it was starting to drive him mad. </p><p>When he put his hands on the headboard, ready to push back onto those strong fingers, Geralt placed a hand under his belly and pulled him away from the leverage and towards the middle of the bed. The silk sheets were too soft, he slipped downwards when he scrambled for some way to push, to get <em>more</em>. </p><p>He felt ready to sob with his desire, didn’t know if he was pleading or demanding as he moaned, “More, I need more.”</p><p>“I’ll give you everything you need, everything you want, Jaskier.” Geralt said, his voice husky and deep. “Let me prove it to you.”</p><p>“I know you can, darling. Please, please give me more.”</p><p>Geralt added a third finger, and this time there was more force in his thrust, his hand moving fast and fingers grazing Jaskier’s prostate every time. It felt fantastic, Jaskier felt like he was shaking apart, his whole body twitched in pleasure. </p><p>“Oh, oh, oh Geralt,” he moaned, pushing his face into the mattress, he didn’t know how much more of this he could take, those clever fingers were taking him apart from the inside. He felt close to coming and all of a sudden he was overtaken by a need to see Geralt, placing a hand on Geralt’s wrist and halting him. </p><p>“I want to see you,” he murmured, having to cough first, his voice hoarse from moaning. </p><p>Geralt helped him rearrange himself, and soon Jaskier was laying on his back, with Geralt still clothed as knelt between his splayed legs, and that just wouldn’t do.</p><p>“Come on, take those clothes off,” Jaskier demanded, “I want to see you.”</p><p>Jaskier greatly enjoyed the unveiling; Geralt’s skin glowing as the rays of the setting sun made him appear golden. He doubted there was any magic or walls on this Continent could make him feel as safe as he did in Geralt’s presence. He was struck by an urge to tell his friend this, but words abandoned him, and all he could do was gaze up at Geralt with helpless affection. </p><p>He reached his arm towards Geralt, who bent forward so that Jaskier could pull his face close. Geralt’s finger’s had re-entered him, slick with more oil, yet Jaskier felt almost shy about pulling him in for a kiss. For their first kiss.</p><p>Geralt met his lips passionately, and Jaskier felt so much in that moment that he worried he would burst into tears. </p><p>Geralt's hands were still just as steady and sure, now however, Jaskier could see the effect he was having on his friend. </p><p>“You make me feel so good,” Jaskier whispered, grabbing Geralt's free hand and giving his palm a kiss. “You are so good to me, my love.”</p><p>The words made Geralt groan, his eyes almost wild as he threw one of Jaskier’s legs over his shoulder and moved in to kiss him, not letting up the movements of his fingers. </p><p>When Geralt made to pull away, Jaskier grabbed onto his hair and made him stay put, enjoying the closeness and intimacy. Kissing had always been Jaskier’s favourite thing. </p><p>When Geralt’s other hand reached down to stroke his hardness, Jaskier’s pleasure became so overwhelming he threw his head back in a moan so loud it might even be called a scream, his release so powerful he shook in Geralt’s arms, while the other man trailed kisses over his face, dragging his stubble over Jaskiers sensitive skin. </p><p>Geralt was looking at him as if he was some kind of wonder. The euphoria from his orgasm made Jaskier grin idiotically at him, but Geralt seemed to like that too, and his eyes grew fonder. </p><p>Jaskier looked down at Geralt’s powerful body, his cock looked painfully hard. </p><p>“Oil yourself,” Jaskier instructed, biting his lip at the sight of Geralt rubbing oil onto his cock, at how willingly he followed Jaskier’s direction. </p><p>Oh, someday soon he would welcome Geralt’s cock inside himself, but for tonight he reached his hand out for the oil, which Geralt dutifully handed over. Jaskier poured the oil over his hands and rubbed it against his inner thighs, and Geralt let out a desperate groan when he realised what Jaskier had in mind. </p><p>Jaskier moved to his side, and Geralt scrambled to fit himself at his back, letting out a guttural groan as he pushed his cock between Jaskier’s closed thighs. </p><p>“Come on Geralt,” Jaskier urged, reaching back and grabbing Geralt’s neck and placing Geralt's left arm over his chest, so that they were pulled closely together. But Geralt seemed so cautious, and Jaskier wanted him to feel good, to take his pleasure. “More Geralt, take what you need. Show me how you will fuck me, when I let you, show me how good you can be.”</p><p>Those words spurned Geralt into action, suddenly he was fucking into the heat of Jaskier’s thighs with vigour, letting out punched out groans into Jaskiers neck, kissing and biting and holding on. </p><p>“So good, Geralt,” Jaskier praised him, feeling Geralt’s hips stutter at the words, precome leaking from his cock. “You took such good care of me, now I want to see you undone. What do you want, sweetheart?”</p><p>“I want-. Tell me again, please.” Geralt groaned, and from the erratic rutting and the strain in his voice, Jaskier could tell he was close. </p><p>“You are so good to me, Geralt, look how well you take care of me, my love, how relaxed I am in your arms,” Jaskier crooned, and Geralt let out a deep and guttural groan as he came, clutching Jaskier close to his chest. </p><p>Jaskier held onto him as best as he could, stroking Geralt’s arm and side as Geralt slowly came down from his orgasm. </p><p>Usually, Jaskier had no trouble filling the silence after an orgasm, but he didn’t quite know what to say now. He had always been good at grand declarations and poetic words, but now, when it meant something, meant everything, his words dried up. </p><p>He rolled over in Geralt’s arms, grimacing slightly at his sticky state, and his heart stuttered as he met Geralt’s gaze. </p><p>“Jaskier, I want-” Geralt started, cutting himself off. </p><p>“Tell me, “Jaskier urged him, placing his palm against Geralt's heart. ”You must know I’d give you anything.”</p><p>“I want to be devoted to you,” Geralt confessed, and suddenly his words were spilling out as if a dam had burst. “I want to be your sword and sheild, win battles for you, for your honour, for our home. I want to be the one to give you everything you desire.”</p><p>“Geralt.” Jaskier gasped, astonished at what he was hearing.</p><p>“And I want to sit with you at night and watch you play the lute. I want to be the first person to hear your thoughts and your songs. I want to fall asleep next to you at night, on silk sheets or on bedrolls under the open sky, it doesn't matter, as long as you let me be by your side until we run out of centuries,” Geralt took his hands in his, his gaze sure as he looked Jaskier deep in the eyes.</p><p>“I am yours, we swore it in front of all those people. And yet I want more. I want you to be <em>mine</em>,” Geralt concluded. </p><p>Jaskier felt his eyes tear up, his voice shaking with emotion as he told Geralt, “My heart has been yours for many years. Just as you swore your loyalty to me, I swear mine to you. I love you, Geralt, it would be my greatest honour to be yours, until the end of our centuries.”</p><p>Jaskier was sure that no matter how long he lived, he would never forget this night, nor how it felt to fall asleep and wake up in Geralt’s arms. </p><p>The sun was rising, and if Jaskier had access to a djinn he would have wished for more hours in the day so that he could stay in Geralt’s arms for longer. When made to move out of Geralt’s embrace, the witcher, apparently awake, pulled him in tighter instead of letting go. </p><p>“Geralt!” Jaskier laughed softly, “I have to get up.”</p><p>“Not even the cooks are up this early,” Geralt grumbled into Jaskier’s neck, “wait until there is enough light for you to see so you don’t fall down the stairs again.”</p><p>“You get distracted reading one time...”</p><p>“Three times, Jaskier,” Geralt reminded him, “and those were just the times no one was there to catch you.”</p><p>Jaskier huffed, reluctantly conceding to Geralt’s point. Though he had just a moment ago wished to linger in bed with Geralt, now that he was awake in bed with no distractions, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from going in every direction; the battle, the aftermath, what this might mean to their town. Geralt. </p><p>He allowed himself to first focus on the man in bed with him, twisting around so that they were lying face to face, he gently pushed away the hair from Geralt’s face and smiled at the golden eyes that opened at his touch. “Can I ask, Geralt, when you first started to feel this way about me?” Jaskier whispered, curiosity getting the better of him.</p><p>Geralt was silent for a while, capturing Jaskier’s trailing fingers in his and giving them a kiss before replying, “I started to want you after a few years, after a few more years, I felt more. I can’t tell you exactly when, because I do not know. You simply walked into my life, and refused to leave. At first, you drove me to insanity, but after a while, well, you started driving me mad for a completely different reason. But you never showed any sign of reciprocating, never took me up on any of my invitations.”</p><p>“What invitations?!” Jaskier exclaimed in surprise. </p><p>“Jaskier, do you think  I ask all my friends to rub camomile on my arse? It’s not difficult for me to reach.”</p><p>“Oh,” Jaskier stammered, completely flabbergasted.</p><p>“Hmm,” Geralt replied in amusement, “So, it was to be friendship, and I tried to put it all out of my mind. And made a mess of it, and well.”</p><p>“And now you feel it again?” Jaskier asked in a soft voice. </p><p>“I never stopped, Jaskier, I just stopped fighting against it. I realised that I-, “ Geralt hesitated before frowning in determination, ”I loved you, and whether you returned that love the same way didn’t matter so much anymore.”</p><p>“Oh, my love.” Jaskier sighed, pulling Geralt closer and kissing him deeply. He had assumed that what Geralt felt for him must be new, developed from the change in their relationship, and Jaskier’s more useful role in his life. It moved him greatly, to hear that Geralt had fallen for him when he was just Jaskier, a bard with nothing to his name but a lute.</p><p>Geralt traced a thumb beneath his eye, gathering up the moisture there, and bringing it to his lips he kissed away Jaskier’s tears. </p><p>“When did you?”</p><p>“Realise what I felt about you?” Jaskier asked, continuing as Geralt hummed in confirmation. “On that mountain, when I realised I was about to lose you, that’s when I understood what I had been feeling for you. I cannot tell you when it started. I think I’ve always been quite infatuated with you, and at some point along the years that turned into love.”</p><p>Geralt gave a hum as Jaskier clung to him harder. “I was sure that I was too late. In the years we spent apart, I didn’t know when I’d see you again, or what our friendship would be like when we reunited. I assumed you might be settled, left the path, that maybe I’d see you every few years. I couldn’t ever have dreamt that we might end up like this.” </p><p>Both Geralt and Jaskier seemed to run out of words following their confessions, instead, they sought each other's touch. Talking about emotions had never come easily to Geralt, and if Jaskier was honest with himself, not to him either. He could write love ballads and mean them at the moment, because he had always adored the idea of love and affection, had made it a part of his profession and the image he showed the world. But to truly be in love, to stay in love, and to be loved by someone in return, that was a first for him. </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>“May I walk with you, youthful one?” Iorveth asked when Jaskier was stepping outside the castle gates, and when he inclined his head in permission, the elf fell into step with him. </p><p>Jaskier, who had had no particular plans for the following hour beside a strong desire to spend it outside in the late autumn sun, started walking towards the bakery, Iorveth at his heels. </p><p>“Good morning, Aisha,” he called out in greeting as he held up the door for the elf, “a bag of those powdered doughnuts I like? If you would be so kind. Anything for you, Iorveth?”</p><p>“No,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe as he considered Jaskier. </p><p>Aisha was slightly thrown by Iorveth’s presence, but she did her best to hide it, and soon they had exited the shop, pastries in hand. Jaskier steered them towards one of the hills where they could sit in the shade and observe both the farmers and the town go about its business. </p><p>“Do you think you will win, youthful one?” Iorveth asked as they made themselves comfortable. </p><p>“I’m not trying to win, old one, I’m simply trying to make a little space for me and my own on this big Continent,” Jaskier replied, pulling out a doughnut and letting out a satisfied moan as he bit into it. He offered the bag to Iorveth, who’s lips twitched into a small smile as he bit into one. </p><p>“The humans won't like it.”</p><p>“No, I suppose they won't.”</p><p>“Hundreds of years we’ve fought each other, elves and humans, mixing all the while, but the bad blood, it runs too deep. Neither side will forget nor forgive.” Iorveth mused, eyes on the horizon.</p><p>“You may be right in saying the bad blood runs too deep. And you have every right to fight to reclaim what was stolen, to fight for an elven state,” Jaskier replied, fidgeting with a straw of grass. “But the world isn’t as it was when humans came here over a millennia ago, you’ve mixed and they’ve experimented and now, there are all of us in the middle. I’m not going to blindly fight against humanity, it’s a part of me, but I will fight against those who come for me and mine. My dreams are smaller than yours, Iorveth; I dream of a place of our own where we can be equal, be at peace, no matter the blood or mutations in our veins. I don’t expect you to agree with me, but I hope you can understand.”</p><p>“That is no small dream you have there, Jaskier. But do you think your humans here will ever accept non-humans? You saw the woman in the shop, you saw her fear towards me.”</p><p>“Change takes time, Iorveth, but isn’t that the one thing we have in spades?” Jaskier asked. “The children here go to school together, they are taught by a witcher and a midwife. They will grow up together with elven, dwarven and gnomish children. Slowly, we will change their attitudes, stop the fear and bigotry from being taught to them. It might take time, but I have it. I was given this chance, and I will do my best.”</p><p>“I understand you, youthful one, and it is my hope that you will get to keep this place, where you can protect our people. Should you ever need the aid of the scoia’tael in defending it, we will come.”</p><p>“Thank you, Iorveth. You are welcome to stay as long as you’d like, I-,” Jaskier briefly hesitated before continuing, “I hear you play the flute, I’ve never had the chance to play with elves. And I’d like you to see more of my town.”</p><p>“I cannot linger too long, but I will stay long enough to get to know your people, and to teach you some of our songs and stories. They should have been shared with you long ago,” Iorveth promised, his voice solemn. </p><p> </p><p>After his talk with Iorveth, Jaskier headed to the battlegrounds to ensure that the work there had been completed. To allow his fighters some rest, he had asked some of the farmers to assist in moving and burying the dead bodies; they couldn’t afford to wait and risk ghouls, necrophages or disease. </p><p>When he climbed the outer wall, he spotted Eskel supervising the work. </p><p>“I swapped with Coën,” Eskel said, greeted Jaskier with a nod when he came to stand next to him. “There is no more risk of riots, all that's left is Triss is going around charming everyone, and I think Coën will enjoy that far more than me. She will call you in a day or two about who you should appoint as mayor of Bogrod.”</p><p>“I’m glad to have you back,” Jaskier hummed, and he was. Eskel had been with him since he took on this responsibility, had been the first one to trust him, and had helped him by tirelessly working by Jaskier’s side to implement his ideas. He even seemed to have developed a sixth sense about what Jaskier would need before he needed it. “Who else is going to hide away all my quills and scrolls, hmm?” Jaskier joked, happy to have Eskel by his side once more. </p><p>“For the last time, Jaskier, I’m not pranking you, I’m trying to stay organised,” Eskel replied in an exasperated tone, but he couldn’t hide his fondness. They stood in silence a while, watching as Gaetan went about gathering debris into a cart. Changing the subject to more serious matters, he said, “So, Vaasa and Bogrod now.”</p><p>“We’ve essentially claimed land from Brokilion to the Yaruga,” Jaskier acknowledged.</p><p>“Not bad for your first year as a lord, huh?” Eskel quipped. “They might start to call you a warlord soon.”</p><p>“Gods, let’s hope they don’t,” Jaskier sighed. “The last thing I’d want is to be remembered for war. To cause a war.”</p><p>“You told Triss you plan on keeping control over Bogrod.” </p><p>“I did, at least for now, if we retreat right away the people there will just retaliate against the non-humans the moment we leave, it’s too volatile. I considered inviting the non-humans here, and they are welcome, but they have the right to stay in their homes, as well. Right now we simply have to take things one day at a time. Stay vigilant, and prepared. The king will have no choice but to contact us soon. We won't know how or what his demands will be until he does.”</p><p>“So we wait?”</p><p>“We wait,” Jaskier confirmed. “But don’t imagine you’ll be getting too much leisure time, we are about to begin our winter preparations.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And so life moved on while they waited. Jaskier tried his best not to worry, but it was moot. With the ransoms that the families of the captured lords and knights had provided, and the inventory from Salsburg, they finally had enough funds to pay the king's tax, but Jaskier rather suspected they were well past that point. Still, he dutifully went over the books with Vesemir, and they prepared as best they could.</p><p>He struggled to put aside his worry, but he did his best to enjoy the time he had now. He had always been one to live in the moment, but he supposed that had been easier when all he had been responsible for was a lute. He tried his best however, wanting to enjoy what he had. And he had so much more than he had ever expected. </p><p>Cirilla had been thriving lately. Having seen Yennefer’s power during the battle, and been trusted to keep Jaskier safe, it had reignited her passion for her studies, and she was working tirelessly at her lessons and training, with her handmaidens alongside her.   </p><p>He spent time with Iorveth and the other elves who were still staying in the castle. They came to dinner most nights, regaling them with stories of elven history. In the evenings, Iorveth would sometimes draw him out into a duet, making true on his promise to teach Jaskier elven songs and melodies. </p><p>The best distraction of all was Geralt. </p><p>The possibility of losing this place was difficult to entertain. </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>The king’s messenger arrived in the morning when the dining hall was still filled with people enjoying their breakfast. Jaskier had been up early that day, drawn outside to look at the first frost of the season, breathing in the crisp air and enjoying the silence still lying heavily over his sleeping town. It had been a peaceful morning. </p><p>“King Ervyll orders Lord Julian, the usurper, to give back the lands he has stolen from the king's loyal subjects and to ride to the capital and surrender to him at once.” From the way the messenger stood with his back straight and eyes meeting only Jaskier’s, it was clear he was a seasoned professional. Anyone else would have looked at the witchers surrounding them and faltered. </p><p>“I have no intentions of usurping the king's title. I shall go to him and bend the knee as one of his lords if he so desires,” Jaskier replied calmly, remaining seated. “We have prepared the taxes we owe, and are ready to pay the king his due. There is no need for all this aggression, messenger. I’m sure we can come to a compromise.”</p><p>“The king demands a return of all his territory, demands your surrender <em>elf</em>, and unless you comply-”  </p><p>At this Jaskier rose up from his seat and walked towards the messenger, tone sharp as a witcher's blade as he demanded, “What does he think he can do to me, if I don’t comply?”</p><p>“Your head will be removed from your body and put on a spike inside the palace courtyard, as a warning to all brigaders, that the king stands for no usurpers, that no elves have a legal claim to titles in Verden,” the messenger replied with an ugly sneer. </p><p>There was an uproar at those words, witchers were screaming for blood so loudly the hall almost shook, but Jaskier moved closer to the messenger, still speaking calmly, “I am willing to compromise, to some degree. Some land could be given back, for a guarantee that the non-humans there would be safe and better protected. I can bend my knee to your king, and swear him my fealty. But this place, and the surrounding area, is ours. Could the king come to accept such terms?”</p><p>The messenger looked back at Jaskier, and though pearls of sweat were gathering at his temples, his voice was steady as he replied. “Those were the only words I am at liberty to share, but if my lord wishes, I can bring your terms to the king. But I wouldn’t expect him to listen to an elven bandit.”</p><p>“Ride back with my terms,” Jaskier ordered, ignoring the insult. “Eskel, please escort the messenger to the city gates and ensure his safe departure.” Despite the level of noise in the hall, he was somehow heard, and Eskel appeared at his side to escort the messenger away.  </p><p>Jaskier stood looking after them, knowing that their borrowed time was over. He gave himself three seconds to mourn, closing his eyes and breathing in a shaky breath, then he looked around, and projecting his voice he called out, “Advisers, please come to my chambers. For the rest of you, I’ll call for a council once we have reached a decision or when a reply arrives from the king, but in the meantime, we will prepare for both siege and battle.”</p><p>His words halted the arguments for a moment, but he didn’t stay, walking determinedly towards his office, head swimming with possibilities. </p><p>Word travelled quickly, and soon Yennefer, Geralt and Eskel trickled in, followed by Aapo, Triss and Ciri. Iorveth slipped through the door as well, to Jaskier’s amusement.</p><p>“For those of you not present in this morning excitements, the king has now reached out to us with the terms of our surrender,” Jaskier held up a hand when he saw Geralt, Ciri and Aapo ready to object. “I rejected those terms, and sent back my own, and in a few days we will know if those are to be accepted.”</p><p>“What did you propose?” Geralt asked. </p><p>“Willingness to surrender Bogrod at the guarantee of the non-humans being protected, no claim to the king's title, and in turn, we keep these lands.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“I bend the knee to the king. Just like every lord on these lands.”</p><p>Silence reigned for a moment, as everyone took in the information. </p><p>Finally, Eskel spoke, “Do you think the king will accept those terms?”</p><p>“It’s hard to say, I’ve met king Ervyll but he was no more than a child then,” Yennefer replied. “If a witcher army scares him enough he might be willing to allow us this township within his kingdom, but if it scares him too much… he will try to attack again, this time in full force.”</p><p>“We just give up Bogrod and the people there?” Cirilla demanded. “King Ervyll has no care for non-humans, barely even for humans, you know how those people were fairing, Jaskier!”</p><p>“I know, and we would demand that they be safe, but we are intruders on the king's lands, those are his lords we are killing or removing from power, lords whose relatives sit at his council, whose daughters are married to his sons. His council is likely screaming for my blood and the amount of territory we’ve claimed will have him thinking we are here to usurp him.”</p><p>“Aren’t we?” Aapo demanded. “I came here to bow to you, Lord Julian, and no one else. I’ll not have you bowing to a human king. If he tries to harm you, let him try, I’ll remove every limb and then put his head on a spike of my own.”</p><p>“Well…” Jaskier stammered, at a loss for words. “Aapo, though I’m grateful for your loyalty, killing the king… would make me king,” he said with a laugh. </p><p>No one else seemed to find the idea amusing, however. </p><p>Jaskier looked around at their serious faces and swallowed. He turned to Yennefer, pleading for her to for some rationality “And that would be a silly idea wouldn’t it, me as a king?” </p><p>“Julian, where did you think this would end? Us at a little estate on the tolerance of humans?” Yennefer asked, derisive. “No, no matter the king's reply, I say we march on the palace.”</p><p>“They sacked our schools, killed young boys not even subjected to the trials, out of fear for us, not to mention what has been done to non-humans. Even if the king agrees to you terms, for how long? How long until their fear of things that are different drives them to attack us?” Geralt asked, a look of concern on his face as he asked, “is there a king on this continent that’d allow a half-elf to claim the title of lord?”</p><p>“I’d be lucky if they only sent me to a reservation,” Jaskier said with a sad laugh. “Someone else should take the title, it would make the most sense.”</p><p>“No.” Cirilla said, “We’ve chosen to follow <em>you</em>, and we meant it.”</p><p>“Any peace we negotiate will be temporary, anyway,” Triss said. “King Ervyll is no more hateful to elves or non-humans than the rest, but he holds no love for them either. There have been rumours for years, that I believe to be true, that he pays men to bring him the scalps of the Brokilon dryads, trying to weaken and kill them for access to a valuable forest and its trade routes. But he is too much of a coward to wage an honourable war against a powerful enemy. He might fear us enough that we could be a peaceful estate for some time, but eventually, hard times would hit, and the king would look to us and want what we have. It would be easy to stoke the fires of resentment towards non-humans and mutants, and that's how this story would end. And that's only if Radovid doesn’t march on these lands, which seems more and more likely; we can all imagine what would happen to a non-human stronghold then. We’d be slaughtered.” </p><p>“You’d truly want to crown me king? All of you?” Jaskier asked, astonished at the chorus of confirmations that followed. </p><p>“While I appreciate that sentiment, we simply do not have the men to march against the king. I won't lead people to slaughter.”</p><p>“You have over forty witchers here now. Let me borrow Triss and I’ll locate the rest. They will help us, even if they don’t wish to settle here like we have,” Geralt said. “We think our numbers, all schools together, reach to about eighty.”</p><p>“The scoia’tael will fight for you, youthful one, every last one of us.” Iorveth declared. “We would swear our fealty to a half-elven king and a place safe for all our people, and there are many of us scattered along the continent. With someone to fight for, something real and tangible and possible, you can’t imagine how many of the non-humans that would come to your aid. Let me travel the lands and spread the word of King Julian, who is both fair and true and righteous, and you will see how many will rise to arms for you.”</p><p>“We don’t have much time,” Jaskier said, “and these numbers, we can't be sure about them.”</p><p>“With me and Yennefer helping, we can send messages, get the word out fast, organise pick up points,” Triss interjected. </p><p>“If we march under the cover of magic and illusion, if we catch the king by surprise and attack before he can gather his bannermen… he wouldn’t stand a chance, and from there, we could mount a defence against any remaining loyalists,” Jaskier said quietly. “We have some of the most powerful sorceresses on our side, could that be done?”</p><p>“Yes,” Yennefer smirked. </p><p>“Someone should speak to the dryads of Brokilon, see if we can march through the forest, they’ve been known to support the scoia’tael before, maybe they will aid us. With dryads on our side, the scoia’tael, non-humans and the witchers, we could-.” Jaskier swallowed, his mind racing. Pieces were falling together so fast, plans and ideas swirling in his mind, the possibilities looking tangible. Becoming king, securing a permanent place for his people was within his grasp, should he grasp at the possibility.</p><p>“People will die,” he reminded everybody. “We could fail.”</p><p>“Yes.” Eskel replied, “And yet we wish to try. We believe in you, in this, in what we’ve built together and all that we can build.”</p><p>“We will put it to a vote at the council tonight, let everyone have their say on if we go to war, and if they wish for me to represent them,” Jaskier decided. “If they wish it, I will lead them, and I’ll permit you to seek out the scoia’tael, the witchers, and anyone who wishes to join us. But first, we vote. Gather everyone who swore me fealty.”</p><p>Geralt stayed behind as they all left, and Jaskier allowed himself a moment to slump into his chair and close his eyes. After a moment he turned to Geralt and said, rather helplessly. “I’ve never wanted power.”</p><p>“I know,” Geralt replied, kneeling by Jaskier’s chair. “You would walk away with your lute in a second, if you thought someone else could better handle the responsibility. You’d probably be happier with the lute.”</p><p>“So what am I doing here, Geralt? I’m not meant to be-, to rule.” Jaskier whispered, giving voice to his anxieties. </p><p>Geralt moved up into a crouch so that their foreheads were touching, “Maybe those qualities will make you a great leader. You’re not here for power or a title. You came here to help, and you stayed here to help, and every choice I see you make is to try to make the lives of everyone here better. You haven't led us wrong yet.”</p><p>“That day will come, when I do.”</p><p>“Yes, it will. And when it does we will right that wrong, and we will continue, and I’ll still trust you, I’ll still follow you,” Geralt replied, gaze never wavering. “I’ve sworn to follow you, Jaskier. Wherever you chose to go, I’ll go. I’ll hand you a crown or I’ll hand you a lute, it’s your choice.”</p><p>“They say the road to damnation is paved with good intentions. Many will die if we choose this path,” Jaskier whispered. “on the other hand, our continent though exciting and beautiful, can be so cruel, and the idea of being able to create a place for all of us to live in… I’d like to give that to you, and Ciri, and to those who have been forced to choose between hiding or being scorned, and those who were left without a choice. But we could fail, and all I would’ve done is ensure there are less of us left.”</p><p>“There are no guarantees, Jaskier, but this is the first time when we’ve all come together; scoia’tael, witchers, non-humans and humans. You are the first to have brought us together, and together, we stand a chance.”</p><p>Jaskier took a deep breath, and then another. They sat in silence until Eskel came up to inform them that everyone had gathered. The three of them walked down in silence, and when they reached the room where they had all gathered, Jaskier walked alone to the front to address everyone.</p><p>Normally, he was rather fond of long speeches, clever turns of phrase and the chance to turn people to his cause. But not today, today he simply said, “We stand between two choices today. The choice to negotiate and bargain for our place here in Vaasa, which we may or may not be granted. Or the choice to stand and march for a country of our own, to risk what we have here, for the chance at greater security, and a place for us all, humans and non-humans and anyone in between. What say you?”</p><p>For a moment, there was silence, and then Eskel’s voice rang out, “Long live King Julian.”</p><p>A second later, a second shout of “Long live King Julian,” was heard, and more voices joined in. </p><p>Soon the whole room was chanting, “Long live King Julian.”</p><p>That escalated rather quickly, Jaskier thought faintly, looking out at the witchers and scoia’tael fighters, his people, chanting his name.</p><p>Geralt walked towards him, stopping just before him to call out, “Kneel before King Julian, the youthful.” </p><p>They all knelt as one, except Geralt, who held a crown in his hands. A glance in Yennefer’s direction confirmed that the handiwork was her doing. </p><p>Geralt walked forward slowly to stand by his side, and when the crown was placed on Jaskier’s brow, it felt heavy. </p><p>Geralt knelt down by his side, bowing his head. Jaskier took a deep breath, and then one more.  </p><p>“Rise,” he ordered, in a voice that sounded strong and sure, and his people rose to greet him.</p><p> </p><p>The end.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is the end of part one of the King!Jaskier saga! I do plan to write more, because I would love to explore Ciri’s role in this new world and Jaskier as the first elvish ruler in centuries. Also possibly some smut *coughs* so stay tuned!</p><p>CW for this chapter: explicit sex, it starts at 'It felt heavenly.' and ends at “Jaskier, I want-” Geralt started, cutting himself off.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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